


Celestial Ciphers- Second Cipher: Tome of the Stars

by SonjaJade



Series: Celestial Ciphers [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Double Agents, F/M, Gen, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, failed pregnacies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1400551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second cipher opens on a palace in disarray.  A prisoner prince is missing.  An Emperor lies upon his deathbed.  A Dragon is thousands of miles away and in limbo.  One thing is for certain- the Xingese Heir Apparent is about to ascend the throne, and all eyes are on him.  Within weeks of taking over the country, things begin to turn from bad to worse.  Dissension among his people angers and frustrates him, his allies seem to turn their backs on his requests for help.  Before he knows it, the young Emperor is faced with a country at civil war- and his enemy brother leads the charge against the forces of the Peony Palace.  The God of Gods seems to be dead as flames consume his temple.</p><p>Can emperor Ling raise his country from the scattered pieces?  Join an expanded cast of characters as politics and warfare threaten to bury every Xingese citizen under the rubble of their great nation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

* * *

 

Many months and care packages came and went between the Peony Palace and Resembool.  One cold day, late in March 1917, Al got the letter he’d been waiting for.  It wasn’t properly addressed but somehow the postman knew it was meant for the Rockbell Automail Clinic.  Al recognized Mei’s handwriting right away and he ripped the Xingese style envelope open right there at the mailbox.  He read her urgency in the way her letters looked like they were going to leap off the paper, and also felt her nervousness a few weeks ago through their soul bond.  
  
She told him frantically that their father suffered a horrible seizure that had put him in a deep coma.  The physician ordered him fed through a special glass tube that slipped down the Emperor’s throat and the high priestess was taking rice gruel into her mouth and gently spitting it down the tube and into his stomach.  They feared the womanizing disease was to blame and had every woman who’d ever slept with his Celestial Highness to see the royal physician for treatment.  Mei told Al the line was out of the audience chamber and clear past the square and into the merchant’s row.   
  
“ _They’re getting everything ready for Ling’s coronation,_ ” she wrote.  “ _They are sure that even if my father comes out of the coma, he will be senile or insane.  As of today, he’s been unconscious for over three weeks.  The seizure itself lasted for over thirty minutes and he bit the tip of his tongue off while thrashing around._ ”  She went on to tell him that if he was planning on coming as soon as Ling took over, he should start packing his bags and start moving everything into high gear.   
  
“ _Come and claim your title and position at the palace, come and claim me.  Just come, quick as you can.  It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other.  I’ll be waiting for you in Yangsho.  Mr. Han already knows exactly where to go.  Be safe and try to travel light.  The desert is hell during the day, but the nights are cold as Briggs.  I’ll see you soon, dearest._  
  
_Love always,_  
_Mei”_  
  
He fisted the letter and shoved it into his pocket before turning and racing back to the house.  He nearly forgot to close the door before bounding up the steps.  He planned what he was going to do as he threw a giant suitcase on the bed and tossed things inside.  Al promised Jerso and Zampano they could come with him, that they would try to find a way to get their original bodies back as they adjusted to living as guests at the palace for a little while.  And while he was there picking them up, he wanted to say hello (and goodbye) to Mrs. Hughes and Elycia.  He wanted to thank Mustang, who was currently in Central attending a month-long conference on political diplomacy, see if there were any last minute lessons before he made his journey across the desert.  
  
Ed nudged the door open with his metal foot and took the clothes out of the suitcase, rolling them up tight and putting them back in so there was more room for other stuff.  Al nodded in thanks and Ed smiled at him.   
  
“Is it time?”  
  
“Mei sent word.  Her father had a grand maul seizure from the syphilis raging in his body.”  He shook his head.  “Medicine is so behind over there.  Something like that would have been cured in two weeks here.  Now he’s going to die from it because he was never treated.”  
  
“When you’re Dragon, maybe you could ensure they get some Western medicine practices open over there,” Ed mused aloud.  “I’m sure they have some ways that work better than ours, but we already know we definitely have some ways that are better than theirs.”  
  
Al laughed nervously.  “Is it normal for me to feel this scared over something I want so badly?”  He tossed some boxers at his older brother who immediately rolled them into little tight biscuit-like shapes and stacked them neatly in his suitcase.  “What if I screw up?”  
  
“You _will_ screw up,” Ed said gently.  “It’s just how you handle it afterward that counts.”  
  
“What if people _die_ because of my mistakes?”  He turned to Ed and tears blurred his vision.  “What if I’m not good enough?”  
  
Ed dropped the clothes from his hand and came to his brother.  His arms came around him and he hugged him tight, his restored hand patting him lovingly on the head.  “You’ll be good enough.  You’re just scared because it’s go time.  And it’s not so much that you’re scared, it’s just that you’re anxious.  You’re going to a new place, and without me.  But I know Mei won’t leave you to flounder on your own.  She’ll be there every step of the way, guiding you and encouraging you, just like I would.  She’s the best person for that job this time.  And you have no idea how proud I am of you, little brother.”  
  
Al’s crying soaked Ed’s shirt, but he didn’t act as if he cared at all.  When Al raised his head again, he felt a smile on his face as he wiped his eyes dry.  “Thanks, Ed.  I wish you were coming too, but I understand.”  
  
“Hey, I got my own fish to fry out west,” he said as he turned loose of Al and started working on the suitcase contents again.  He gestured to the stack of letters in the windowsill.  “You taking those?”  
  
Al smiled but shook his head.  “I won’t need them.  I’m going to get her, after all.”  
  
Ed sighed, a grin on his face.  “I can’t believe you’re going to marry her so quickly.  Shit, she’s still just a kid!  And so are you when you get down to it.”  
  
“There’s a saying in Xing that goes, ‘If you know what you want, why dawdle?’.  I’ve known for two years what I want, and I intend to stop dawdling as soon as I get there.”  He stepped over to the bookcase that divided the room into Al’s half and Ed’s half.  He retrieved a small clay box, intricately carved and decorated with the Xingese character for ‘love’ on the lid.  He opened it and showed Ed what was inside.  “It’s a Drachman diamond.  I had it set in a Xingese style setting so she would truly look like the wife of someone important.”  The ring was a large cabochon style in bright yellow gold with filigree vines along the sides of the large stone.  It was a pale blue green, the same color as jade, only transparent like a diamond.  Ed’s eyes were wide as he took the jewelry out to get a proper look at it.  
  
“Al, this thing’s gotta be worth a fortune…  How did you get something like this on a grocer’s salary?”  He handed the ring back carefully, shock still on his face.  
  
“I never spent any of it.  I made the box myself with alchemy and once I got the diamond mounted, I played with the design until I got it just right.”  He covered the box and stuck it in his pants pocket.  
  
“You better put it somewhere safer than that,” Ed commented.  “Maybe you better wear it until you see her.”  
  
Al considered what Ed said, then pulled the ring from the box, sat it on his writing table, clapped and touched the ring to expand the band to a size that would fit his middle finger.  He slipped it on and went back to packing after tucking the now empty box in between some boxer biscuits.  
  
“I know Granny and Winry are gonna want lots of pictures of the wedding.  Don’t forget to do that, alright?” Ed asked as he sat down on the bed.  
  
“I won’t.  I want lots of pictures too.”  Looking through his drawers one last time, he decided he had enough to go to Central for no more than three days and then get to the Palace.  “I think that’s everything.”  
  
Ed flopped backward on the bed and shouted, “Finally!  I get my own room!”  
  
“Now you and Winry will have a second place to make out in secret, yay!” Al cried just as excitedly.  
  
Ed’s face reddened.  Then he sat up and replied, “It won’t be for long.  I’ll be leaving for Creta in a few weeks anyway.”  
  
“And you better not leave without making it clear to Winry how you feel,” Al warned.  “Don’t be a coward and hide behind your trip.  Be a man and tell her you love her.  It’s not fair to her to leave her wondering where she stands with you.  Besides, she told me she’s afraid you’ll find someone else while you’re in Creta and never come home.”  
  
“I would never do that to her,” Ed said seriously.  
  
“Then make sure you tell her that, and don’t just say the words, show her you mean it.”  Al closed the suitcase and looked down at himself.  “I better take a quick shower and get changed.  Do you think someone could drive me up to the train station?”  
  
He showered faster than he ever had in his life, calling Jerso before he left to let him know that he was on his way and to tell Zampano.  He asked Winry to call Mrs. Hughes for him, and before he knew it, he was waving goodbye to his family from the window of a train, on his way to Central City.  He paid extra for a reclining seat, and as the rails lulled him to sleep, he dreamed of a foreign land, full of jungles and exotic flowers, tiny pandas, and a beautiful raven haired girl who had grown taller and thinner (and busty) since the last time he saw her.  In the dream, he kissed her and he thought she tasted like pineapples, and they went further, until they were one with the cosmos and each other and he couldn’t think of any reason on earth why he should be afraid or anxious.

 

The wheels screeched as they made a stop along the way, and he asked the usher how much further to Central.  He said it would be another six hours at least, and Al sighed and covered up again with the blanket.  “I’m coming, Mei,” he whispered to himself, looking out the window at the night sky.  “I’ll be there soon.”  
  
The train left the berth of the station and he was lulled to sleep yet again.  He hoped the dreams he was having of his beautiful bride would soon come true.  When he awakened in Central Station a few hours later, he was refreshed and ready.  Ready to become a husband, ready to become the Emperor’s Dragon- ready to become a man. 

* * *

The Hughes family was still healing, but they’d come a long way since Gen. Hughes’ death.  Elycia was getting so big and was going to school now, and Mrs. Hughes’ quiche was as wonderful as Ed had sworn it was the first time he’d tasted it.  It was nice to see them and to be able to thank them with hugs from a real body.  It warmed his soul to see them smiling again.  
  
After an early dinner with Jerso and Zampano, he met Gen. Mustang and Col. Hawkeye at a bar that the General assured him wouldn’t ‘make a stink’ about him being under age.  When he entered, about four pretty girls turned to face him, and what he knew about _ki_ had let him know that the women saw him as fresh meat.  
  
“He’s spoken for, girls,” Mustang quipped as he walked over to greet him, a tumbler of whiskey on ice in his hand.  He stuck his free hand out.  “Thanks for coming, Alphonse.  Hope you don’t mind meeting me here.”  
  
Al could feel the eyes of the women still lingering on him as he shook hands with him.  “Uh… who are they?” he asked cautiously.  
  
“Overage women gawking at a handsome underage boy, nothing more,” he grinned.  Immediately the women turned away, a collective groan quietly emanating from their corner of the room.  “Come on, Riza’s at the bar.”  
  
Al blinked.  He’d never heard him refer to his subordinate by her first name before.  He accepted a hug from Hawkeye before climbing up onto a barstool and ordering a fizzy drink.  The woman behind the bar served him on the house, a cigarette balanced delicately between her painted lips as she offered to give him something stronger.   
  
“A little scotch will put hair on your chest, boy!” she chuckled.  
  
Without missing a beat, Al replied, “I’ve got plenty of hair on my chest, ma’am.”  
  
“I don’t believe it,” she said, her green eyes twinkling with mischief.  
  
Al cocked his eyebrow, unbuttoned enough of his shirt to show her that he did have plenty of hair on his chest, and then buttoned back up.  He laughed as she fanned herself with her manicured hand.  
  
“If you’ll excuse me Roy-Boy, your little friend is givin’ me the vapors!”  She left the three of them at the bar to snigger among themselves, going on about being young and if she could only turn back time.  
  
“That’s my dear aunt,” Mustang explained.  “This is her brothel.”  
  
Al sputtered.  “Brothel?”  
  
“Don’t worry, they,” he gestured to the girls who’d been eyeing him earlier, “know you’re not here for that reason.”  The General took a sip of his drink and continued, “I asked you here so we could talk in private, because this needs to be off the record.”  
  
Al nodded and felt his stomach clench nervously.  What in the world was he going to say?  “Of course, General.”  
  
The man scoffed, retorting, “Al, we’re not at headquarters.  You can call me Roy.”  
  
“And you can call me Riza,” Hawkeye added with a smile.  “Besides, this isn’t as serious as Roy makes it sound.”  
  
Roy looked her direction and sighed, and Al was suddenly very aware that there was more than commanding officer and subordinate between them.  He’d heard the rumors, but he thought they were just that- rumors.  Now he could see it for himself.  He could tell it in Riza’s eyes- a cinnamon colored gaze that was a lot like the times Winry would look at Ed.  He watched as she gave him a grin and his irritation seemed to fade.  Oh yeah- they may not be together publically, but they were definitely _together_.  
  
Roy’s head swiveled back to Al.  “Listen, it’s not really my place to tell you what to do with your life.  Not when I came after Ed the way I did and wrangled him into the army, not after he dragged you all over the country with him…  But I wanted to say that I think you should wait to marry Mei.”  
  
Al took a drink of his soda pop and asked, “Why’s that?”  
  
Roy fidgeted with his glass.  “You’re going to be walking into a totally different nation, with different people, a different language, different culture, food, everything.  Your whole world is going to be turned upside down, and that’s before you take up your position at the palace.”  He took a long drink of his liquor and cleared his throat.  “I know you want to end her troubles with the royal matchmakers.  I know you want to settle down with her and probably start a family as soon as you can.  But you need to be aware that first of all, Mei is still too young to bear children.  Her body can’t handle pregnancy and childbirth, and you know this because you’re not an idiot like Ed and actually know a thing or two about human reproduction.”  
  
Riza cleared her throat then, and continued, “What Roy’s trying to say is that you’re going to have a lot of things happen as soon as you cross into Xing.  Trying to become a husband as soon as you get there is only going to compound your relationship, because you’ll be busy learning the language and customs and your new duties.  Mei’s going to feel very lonely on days you’re separated for long hours.”  She touched Roy’s arm and smiled at Al.  “If there’s a way she can be by your side, it will make things easier.  But remember, when you become the Emperor’s Dragon, you won’t just be serving the Emperor, you’ll be serving an entire nation.  I’m not saying to ignore Mei in favor for billions of others, I’m just saying it’s easy to lose sight of the big picture when you’re focusing so hard on one small part of it.”  
  
“But she’s not a small part of the big picture,” Al protested.  “I know you guys don’t understand because we’re both still young, but I believe we are soul bound to one another.  I told Roy about my theory as to why we’re connected the way we are, and that’s more than just puppy love, that’s the real deal!”  
  
“I’m not saying to abandon her, Al,” Roy responded.  “All I’m saying is to wait.  Wait until you know the language well enough to make love to her in written Xingese.  Wait until you understand the hows and whys behind your wedding vows.  Wait until you feel as comfortable among the rest of the Xingese people as you do her.”  He grinned at him.  “Besides, you could use your wedding to unite Xing and Amestris in diplomatic bliss.  It will be the biggest social event of our country, and you can tell us what it would mean for Xing, when you know better what’s going on.”  
  
“And if you wait, it will give both of you time to grow up a little bit,” Riza added.  “I know the Xingese marry young, but for you to marry her when she’s only thirteen years old- it’s very unconventional in Amestris for that to happen, even though you’re not that much older than her.”  
  
Al frowned.  “She’s almost fourteen.  And I’ll be eighteen in June.”  
  
“Too young,” Roy grumped.  
  
“Well, you’re too old!” Al said defensively.  “I’m not going to put it off forever!”  He dropped his voice to a whisper, “Like you two have!”  
  
Riza’s cheeks flashed pink for only a moment while Roy’s eyes narrowed.  “This isn’t about us, it’s about you being an ambassador of our country to your new home.  Lots of times, when people come into a position of power, they must conduct themselves according to traditions, customs and laws that don’t always fit into their own personal beliefs.  You will be more subject to that kind of thing because you’re going to be a foreigner coming into a very powerful position.  You certainly don’t want the Xingese pissed off enough to attempt an assassination on you.  And if they find out you’re in love with Mei, they might try to hurt her too.”  
  
That hit Al right in the chest.  “They’d hurt her?  Because of me?”  
  
“Maybe.  It’s hard to know right now.  That’s why you should _wait_.  Feel out the people.  See how they react to _you_ first.  If they like you, then see how they react to you _and her_.”  He patted Al on the shoulder.  “Love is a beautiful thing, but it can sometimes blind you to other important things.  I’m not saying don’t love her.  I’m just saying to hold off being seen too much in public with her and definitely wait to marry her.”  His tone turned serious, “And I swear, if you knock her up at thirteen, I’ll set you on fire from way over here.  You could kill her if you don’t wait until she’s at least fifteen.”  
  
Al digested what Roy and Riza had told him.  He didn’t like it, not one bit.  They’d already planned to marry as soon as Ling set it up for them to do so.  But he knew they were right, and now he was scared that someone would try to hurt her for loving a foreigner, or try to hurt _him_ by hurting _her_.  And he felt sick at the thought of killing her by making her pregnant…  
  
“You definitely need something stronger than that, Al,” Roy said as he got up and walked around to the other side of the bar.  He reached under and pulled out a bottle of clear alcohol and a clean glass.  He dropped a few cubes of ice in and poured the alcohol and some orange juice into it and slid it to him.  “Drink that ‘til your face gets its color back.”  
  
The drink was a little bitter, but the sweetness of the orange juice helped him get through it.  Roy asked Riza for Al’s going away gift and sat it on the bar top in front of him.  He opened the box and found another box inside, something marked ‘embroidery supplies’.  “What’s this?” he asked, utterly confused.  
  
“It’s not a sewing kit, only marked that way for nosy Xingese spies.  This is what the box will look like when we send you more,” Roy replied as he freshened both his drink and Riza’s.  
  
Al popped the tape seal on the cardboard box and peered inside.  His cheeks heated as he recognized the small square tins that Ed had stashed in the depths of his sock drawer- prophylactics, probably a gross of them.  Al swallowed thickly.  “R-rubbers, sir?”  
  
“I said wait to marry her and have children, I didn’t say wait to love her.”  He took one out and opened it up, rolling it down over two fingers.  “Roll it all the way down to the base, _after_ you’re hard.  This box is safe, but the next box, check for pinholes in the tip, like this,” he demonstrated.  “If they have holes in them, don’t use them.  When you’re done, hold the bottom until you’re all the way out of her, then pull it off and tie it in a knot, like this…”  He whipped the transparent thing off his digits and tied it in one smooth motion.  “That should last you a while.  And if not… I’ll be very jealous and proud at the same time,” he said, smirking.  
  
“Okay,” Al said, his ears feeling like they were on fire.  
  
“I mean it,” Roy said sternly.  “No babies.  Not yet, anyway.”  
  
“Yes, sir.”  
  
Roy sighed.  “I’m sorry.  I just want to keep you as safe as possible.”  
  
Al felt a smile grow on his face.  “I know, Roy.  Thank you, for everything.”  
  
“Be damn careful, Al,” Roy said as he rejoined them on the patron side of the bar.  “We don’t know very much about Xing except from what the refugees told us and what we pick up from the wire taps.  I couldn’t sleep at night if I sent you over there without a proper warning.  And if I scared you… that just means you’re aware now.  I’m sure Mei will understand, though if she doesn’t, it’s because she’s a teenage girl.  I’ve had quite a lot of experience with those,” he said as he winked at Riza.  
  
“Do be careful, Al,” she said, ignoring Roy altogether.  “You know if you ever get in trouble, Roy’s aunt is networked with Mr. Han and his contacts in Xing.  If you ever need our help, just get a telegram with this message to this name,” she said as she handed him a slip of paper.  On it was written, ‘Pan Sai Tong’ and ‘The country air is cold here’.  “We keep our ears close to the wires, and if you get it to that name, Roy’s aunt will get it to us.”  
  
Al nodded and put the paper into his wallet.  He glanced at his watch and said, “It’s getting late, I really should get going.”  He drained the last of his drink and thanked them once again for his gift, and the advice.  “I’ll try to write or send word once we arrive.”  
  
Roy shook his hand before pulling him into a hug.  “Enjoy the journey, Al.  Be careful, take your time, and don’t ever forget to use those tins until Mei’s at least fifteen.”  
  
After hugging Riza as well, he reached in and handed one of the tins to Roy, but he refused.  “I have my own, but thank you.  Those are for _your_ adventures.”   
  
With that, Al retired to his hotel room and barely slept.  But when he finally did, it was of mobs of angry Xingese people, shouting at him to leave and hanging Mei by her feet as they beat her with sticks.  
  
He woke in a cold sweat and began to question if he was really doing the right thing.  
  
“Mei, what do I do?”  
  
He could feel her from far away, trying to soothe him.  He needed to be near her, needed to feel her soothing energy and reunite two split souls that were too far apart.  But he didn’t want her to get hurt either.  But when he listened to the love coming through their bond, he knew he had to go to her.  He would just have to do as Roy had warned him- go slow and be aware of his surroundings.  He could do that.  
  
In the morning, Jerso, Zampano, and Al climbed onto the first train heading to Youswell.  By nightfall, they were already trekking across the frigid sands on their way to Xing.  The closer he got to Mei, the stronger their soul bond got and the clearer her signal became.  This had to be the right thing to do; it just _felt_ right in Al’s gut.  
  
It had to be right… _right?_


	2. CHAPTER ONE

“Can’t we go any faster?” moaned Mei.  They received a telegram hand delivered from Mouse four days ago.  It was from Alphonse, who said he was leaving Central in the morning.  That would mean that they were likely already in Youswell, maybe already in the desert…  He was finally on his way, and Mei was itching to get to Yangsho so she could greet him, face to face at last, as soon as he arrived.  
  
“My Lady,” Bear chided gently, “even if we were to magically appear this instant in Yangsho, your fiancé would still be several days away.  I know it’s hard, but try to enjoy the journey.”  He gestured to the grand carriage they were riding in.  “Look at it this way!  At least you don’t have to walk, we’re quite warm in here, and look at all the food we’ve brought with us!”  He tossed her a sweet bun wrapped in candied leaves.  
  
She smiled into her lap, taking the bun into her hands.  “You’re right, Bear.   I guess either way, it’s a ‘hurry-up-and-wait’ situation.”  She took a bite of her treat and tugged the heavy curtain at the window back a little, gazing out at the lush country she’d hiked through with her brother only a short two years ago.  It was greener than she remembered, probably because they were on the cusp of spring and new life would soon be peeking through every surface of the forests and glades.  
  
“May I ask how much you told Alphonse-sama?”  
  
Mei wasn’t offended at the question.  Since Ling was named Heir, both ‘Bear’ and ‘Mouse’ had been appointed by him as personal guards to Mei, and the both of them had been briefed on Ling’s choice for Dragon, his link to Mei, and what to expect when he arrived.  “I told him as much as I could smuggle to Mr. Han.  I didn’t trust the secure line for something so important.”  
  
“Understandable,” Bear commented as he took a swallow of chilled tea from a gourd.  “We still have trouble keeping bandits and Hong supporters off of it from time to time.”  
  
“I told him Father was in a deep sleep and that my brother will likely be made Emperor soon if he doesn’t wake up.  That’s all.”   
  
She remembered the day Emperor Wu collapsed.  They’d been in negotiations with one of two suitors her father had chosen for her, bickering over the dowry.  She’d been enraged from the get-go.  She told the man as respectfully as possible (while still snarling and grimacing), that even if they married, she would never lie with him and never love him, and that if he wanted some kind of special rank that would come with her marriage that he could have it and whatever else he wanted, so long as she was allowed to never live with him or bear him any children.  Her father ignored her and laid out his terms, which included grandchildren for him and land for the royal reserve to use for planting, hunting or whatever the Palace decided was necessary.  When Mei stood up and started flinging the gold ornaments from her hair and layers of fine silk into the floor between the noble man and her royal father, he’d called for his guards to restrain her with chains to force her to sit still throughout the rest of the negotiations.  She’d blown the side of the room away with her explosive alkahestry and raced out of the guest wing.  
  
She sped through the twisting corridors until she felt Lan Fan’s _ki_ calling to her, and suddenly she was snatched into a secret passage.  While the two of them reigned in their energy and made their way back to Ling’s private office, word had begun to spread that the Emperor had suffered a seizure.  Mei immediately felt guilty.  Her father had been under a tremendous amount of stress not only because of her matchmaking woes, but also Hong’s disappearance and that of her oldest unmarried royal sister, who had fallen in love with her step-father’s youngest brother.  The Emperor’s physician had advised him to put off the arrangements of his daughters’ matrimony until after they’d found Hong and done something with him, but he didn’t listen.  Now he’d had a massive seizure and had fallen into a coma.  
  
Weeks went by and there was no change in his condition.  Mai Renchen had been running the country smoothly without any trouble, making the executive decision to postpone the princesses’ matchmakings indefinitely (to Mei and Princess Kim’s relief).  However, the end of the Emperor’s Dragon’s rule was fast approaching.  In the event that the Emperor could not rule, the Dragon would rule in his place, but it would only last for two moons if an heir had already been chosen.  It had already been five weeks, and with no sign of the Emperor’s condition improving, the Palace was in a tizzy trying to get everything ready for the royal coronation.  And Mei had sent her letter as soon as she realized the palace was beginning to look to Ling as the next Emperor.  She’d had Mouse take their fastest horse and race to Yangsho to get it to Mr. Han.  And now Al was on his way, but he had no idea that Mei blamed herself for the Emperor’s collapse in the first place.  
  
“That was probably wise, My Lady.  You can tell him the rest in person, if you’re not busy with other things,” he said, smirking.  
  
Mei said nothing, only nibbled red faced at her sweet bun as they rolled down the forest path.  After a long while in silence she called for the driver to stop for a bathroom break.  A latrine was dug hurriedly by one of the dozen and a half men escorting her to Yangsho, and a small, lavish canvas stall was erected around it to provide her with privacy.  As she did her business, she stretched out with her _ki_ , reaching out across the miles seeking Alphonse.   Mei had been aware that as they bridged the distance between them, his ‘signal’ became stronger.  She wondered if she could reach him directly yet…  
  
Just as she was about to give up, she felt his presence.  He was calm and happy, an undercurrent of anxiety thrumming just under that…  When he became aware of her _ki_ , his energy became consumed by a distinct feeling of adoration.  She smiled to herself in the privacy of the toilet and tried to convey the same feeling to him.  It took all of her concentration to do it; it was quite a large distance still, after all.  When it registered with him, joy emanated from his aura and she gradually let the connection go.  He was safe, he was half way across the desert, he would make it.  
  
She finished her business and climbed back into the carriage, Bear helping her in and Mouse returning to the front of the caravan to lead the way.  She settled into the cushions lining the front of the wagon with a grin.  
  
“Looks like that was some bathroom break, My Lady,” her bodyguard noted as she drew a blanket over her.  She’d told both him and Mouse that she and Al were bound somehow by alkahestry.  He must’ve guessed they’d communicated some way while she was in the latrine.  
  
Mei nodded as Xiao Mei climbed out of her nest of linen covers, stretched, and snuggled under her master’s chin instead.  “It was, Bear.  I think you’re right, I’ll try to enjoy the journey.”  And with that, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Since meeting his father, Ling and the Emperor had become much closer than he’d ever hoped they could.  It wasn’t unheard of for His Celestial Highness to be close to his children, but the past three Emperors had been so lost to lust and carnal desire that the men had left the princes and princesses in the hands of their mothers, to grow up in their home villages with bodyguards and tutors.  Ling did not expect to be given his own royal home on the sprawling palace grounds, and he did not expect to spend much time with his father at all between lessons and etiquette training.  But when Emperor Wu came knocking at his door with a Mah Jong board in hand one evening, he was pleasantly surprised and their relationship began to grow stronger over game strategy and rice wine.

They’d become friends, and that was more than Ling could have ever hoped for.  The Emperor insisted that Ling call him by his given name, though Ling couldn’t help but call him Wu-san.  It felt rude to call him just Wu…  And he still wanted to show his respect for the man, even when they were alone playing a game.  He reflected on the differences between his father and his step-father, and a little grin would form on his lips when he thought of how Loka would have demanded to be called Emperor even among his friends and closest relatives.  He was glad that his half brother did not inherit the man’s arrogance, and one day hoped to count Keiji in some important station at the palace.  He was a good kid, full of their grandmother’s kindness and their mother’s powers of observation.  Surely there was something for him to do in Shang-Po.

In the weeks after the Emperor’s collapse, Ling spent his free time at his father’s bedside.  He would read aloud to him as he studied various texts and military strategy, would call for the musicians to come and play a few of Wu’s favorite songs while he prayed for his father’s recovery.  He’d summoned every available physician from across the nation to the palace to see if something could be done.  He’d sent for Dr. Knox in Amestris to see if he would be able to do something, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to come anyway.  The days crept past slowly as Ling waited for his friend and father to awaken, but his condition never changed.

The high priestess came three times a day to feed him, an hour and a half long process with a special glass straw and fortified rice gruel.  Ling was only present for her feedings once, and that was because his tutor had let him leave early.  Otherwise, Huilang came when she knew Ling was busy, and Ling was grateful for that.  Watching her maneuver the straw into position, and then feed him like a mother bird, was difficult to watch- but it was harder to watch her cry as she did it.  Afterward, her eyes had been red and puffy, and the bib she’d placed around Emperor Wu’s neck wasn’t meant for dribbled food, but rather her tears.  He wondered why Huilang cried this way over his father, but he never asked.  He was aware that she had been from the Pan village and figured perhaps they’d been dear friends growing up, a little like himself and Lan Fan.

And then he wondered if they’d gone a step further than friendship…  If his father ever woke up, he was going to ask.

One day, about a week after Mei had left to retrieve his Dragon from Yangsho, Mai Renchen knocked at the door to the Imperial Chambers.

“Young Lord?” he called.  “May I come in?”

Ling frowned.  On the surface, Mai was a good man, a brilliant leader, and a masterful strategist.  But underneath that lie a man as awful as Loka- a glutton for money and material wealth.  The depth of his character was fairly shallow and Ling thought him to be slick as a snake and someone he wanted watched at all times.  “Come in, Mai.” He answered.

He entered in a flurry of silks held back ceremoniously with his dress breastplate.  Ling fought the urge to roll his eyes.  He looked ridiculous dressed that way, but he held his tongue.

“Any change?” he asked hopefully, though Ling was sure it was a question empty of genuine hope.

“No, not at all.”  He met Mai’s sad eyes and replied, “He only has ten days left to wake up.  But I think even if he wakes up after that, I’ll give him his throne back.”

Mai seemed surprised by that answer, and he said, “You know, he would be quite proud of you if he’d heard you say that.  You’re everything that Hong was not, everything he wanted the next ruler of Xing to be.  I don’t think he would let you give it back.”

If Ling had thought for a moment those words had been true, he would have thanked Mai a thousand times over.  Instead he said, “What was it you needed, Dragon?”

“Actually, it was to ask you if you’d given any serious thought as to who _you’re_ going to choose for the Emperor’s Dragon.”  He sat down near Ling.  “I’d be glad to continue serving Xing in that capacity if you don’t have anyone in mind.”

Ling grinned.  “I have someone already, but I appreciate your offer.  I believe after two Imperial reigns of service, it’s time for some fresh blood.”

Mai bowed his head, seemingly alright with the news that in ten days, he would be leaving the Peony Palace for good.  “Very well.  But may I ask who it is you’re going to appoint to the position?”

“Alphonse Elric,” Ling answered, and the man gasped.

“A foreigner?  It’s unheard of, Young Lord!”

“He’s the only person in the world that I trust for the job, and he will do it with love in his heart, even if it meant he never made a penny from it.”  He glared at Mai, gleaming and pristine in fine silk that he did not deserve to even borrow.  “He will not forsake the nation for money to fund his daughters’ weddings.”

Mai’s eyes narrowed.  “You don’t know the whole story, Prince Yao.  I was planning on guiding Hong to rule Xing the way _I_ would have ruled it, had he taken the title of Heir in Waiting.  I would have _made_ him into a good Emperor.”

“Instead of protecting Xing from him, you would have allowed him to take over and stood hoping in the background that he would change?  I won’t trust my people to someone like that.”  He got to his feet.  “I suggest you take all your borrowed royal clothing back to the store houses and start packing your things.  Perhaps one of your well-off daughters will take you in, now that you’ll no longer live here.”

Mai’s lips were pressed into a thin, angry line, and he got to his feet in one fluid motion and stormed out of the bedroom.

Ling took a deep breath and returned to his vigil.  “Wu-san, please wake up,” he begged as he lit more incense and began to pray again.  He stayed until Huilang came for the last feeding of the day, and he stopped her before she could begin.

“Thank you, priestess.  You have no idea how much I appreciate your efforts.”  He bowed his head to her, and she blushed, bowing low in response.  “Please send for me if anything changes.”

“Of course, Young Lord.  Sleep well, Prince Yao,” she replied, her voice cracking with emotion as he departed the Emperor’s wing of the Palace.

Ling’s royal house stood on the far side of the garden.  It was only four rooms with a private western style water closet and bathroom (at his own request, as he planned to give the house to Al and Mei after he and Lan Fan took up residence in the Palace), but it was more than enough space for only two people.  The Emperor had been alright with having the small guest house built there because he knew of Ling’s desire to live with ‘Lady Fan’ in private, or at least as private as he could manage with hundreds of quick and brilliant guards surrounding and penetrating the Palace grounds.

Once, his father had told him of his own countless conquests with women, but also told him he’d favored one over all of them and understood why Ling would want to marry his assassin.

“My son, you should at least sample a dozen others before you make any decision to stick by just one woman for the rest of your life,” he’d said one day over tea and checkers.  “If a bear eats nothing but berries all his life, he’s happy enough, but imagine how much happier he’d be if he tasted fish or rabbit?  And sometimes he likes all three at once!”

Ling had countered, “But if a bear eats nothing but berries all his life and never knows what fish or rabbit taste like, is he not still happy to have the berries?”

“Maybe Lady Fan would like to try some fish and rabbit with you…”  Ling had no answer for that comment.  Wu-san continued, “Among my own concubines and clan wives, many of them entertained each other in between visits with me.  And on nights when I had several all at once, do you think they sat around watching me pleasure them one at a time?  Women are resourceful- they’ve figured out how to use other objects in place of a man.  And in the dark, who cares whose fingers it is bringing you to rapture.”

While those words piqued his imagination, they didn’t sway his decision.  He and Lan Fan lived together as if they were already married, made love like a normal, committed married couple would do, and broke Palace taboos by showing affection to her in public, despite how it embarrassed her.  As he approached the elaborate house, he paused to smile to himself.  This little place was like a sanctuary away from the chaos of the Palace, and he reconsidered giving it to his Mei-mei.  It felt like _home_ , after all.

The porch was gleaming clean, and he took off his shoes just outside the door.  He slid the door open to reveal a short hallway with two sliding doors on each side and a western style door directly in front of him.  The second door on the right was where they slept, the second door on the left was where Ling’s royal wardrobe was housed, along with dressing mirrors and some stands to arrange robes on so the wrinkles could fall out of the folded silks.

The front left room was the sitting room, where a fire pit warmed them as they spent the evening unwinding from long days spent training and studying.  There were ornate chests along the walls that held dishes and dried food that they could cook themselves or call for a servant girl from the kitchens to cook for them (which was only when they’d both been sick and couldn’t cook).  There were books in a tall bookcase, all in Amestrian and mostly literature that they would read aloud to keep their language skills intact.  Among the spines were also some comic books, something Ling had developed a taste for after Al sent one by accident with the other titles.

Lan Fan scrambled to the doorway of the sitting room, bowing before her lord and lover.  “Welcome home, qing ai de,” she said cheerfully as she raised her head.

Ling leaned down and kissed her lips before helping her to her feet.  He glanced behind her to find a volume of Turbo Man lying open and face down in the floor.  “Did a new one come today?” he asked as they walked side by side, hand in hand to his changing room.

“I would have waited to read it with you, but the last one was a cliff-hanger and I just couldn’t help myself,” she apologized.

They entered the dressing room and Ling’s fingers went immediately to his elaborate sashes.  “It’s alright, Lan-chan.  I’m happy that you’re enjoying it, that’s all that matters to me.”  He smiled at her as she helped keep the silk belt from touching the floor.  “I get a great happiness knowing that you’re capable of relaxing with something so ordinary as an adventure tale.”

She returned his smile and looped the sash on a special hook so that the laundry maids could properly fold and put it away.  Her hands gathered into the silk of his outer robe and helped pull it from his shoulders.  “Actually I spent most of the day at the dojo.  I haven’t been home very long.”

“I can still smell the chalk on you,” he commented, untying a much simpler cotton belt from his inner robes.  Even two years later, she was still in rigorous training with the Palace guards.  Their level of excellence far surpassed the Fu clan’s training, and she’d devoted herself to being more than just a ‘Lady’ sitting around the gardens eating delicate snacks.

“Perhaps it would be good for us both to have a bath?” he suggested, lifting his eyebrows mischievously.

She dismissed the hint with a quiet chuckle.  “How’s Wu-san?” she asked instead, arranging his robes on the stands so they wouldn’t wrinkle.

Ling sighed, not amused with Lan Fan’s lack of interest in bathing with him.  “No change, as usual.  And Mai Renchen wasn’t very happy to hear about Al, but I told him in no uncertain terms he would have to leave very soon.”  He was down to a simple short tunic and knee length pants.

She hummed in acknowledgement.  “Alphonse will be a much better Dragon than Mai.  Even starting from scratch, he has the heart of someone who truly cares- that’s a perfect foundation for him to build off of.”

After she finished placing the last stand out of the middle of the room, he took her in his arms, holding her as close as he could.  “Not much longer, Lan-chan…  I’ll be Emperor and you’ll be my dear wife at last.”

“And Mei will be so happy she’ll burst,” Lan Fan said as she snuggled into his broad chest.  “With Al by her side, she’ll finally feel whole.”

“I think we’ll all feel more whole once we get our chessboard set,” he said as he stroked her hair.  “I hope all of Xing will feel more connected as well.”  Lan Fan stirred in his grasp and she pulled away from him, gently.  “Where are you going?” he asked as she walked slowly off in the direction of their Amestrian style bathroom (complete with a huge custom cast iron slipper tub).

“I was thinking maybe a bath does sound nice after all.  A long, hot soak would be good for both of us.”  She turned and gave him a shy smile.  “It’s been a while since we’ve been able to just relax in the water together…”

Ling grinned, feeling heat pool in his loins at the memory of the last time they’d ‘relaxed’ together.  “Yes it has,” he agreed as he approached her.  “Should I assist you in removing your clothing as well, Lady Fan?” he asked as he tugged gently on a string near her shoulder.

Her cheeks pinked, but she nodded, and before long Ling had made her forget all about Turbo Man and the perilous cliff hanger.  


* * *

  
They crossed into Xing the night before, and Al was so anxious and unable to sleep that if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought he’d drank four pots of coffee- all in one gulp.  He tossed, he turned, he huffed and sighed…  He just couldn’t calm down, and it was because he could feel Mei’s anxiousness.  They were very close now.  In the morning it would only be a scant six hours and they’d be in Yangsho, home to a cunning old bat named Yan-Na and a gentle giant named Gen.  She’d told him all about them, and Mr. Han had too, and he couldn’t wait to meet them.

“Ni hao, hen gaoxing jiandao ni,” he whispered- practicing how to say, ‘Hello, it’s nice to meet you’ in Xingese.  He said it over and over again, terrified he’d forget or say even one word wrong and change the meaning of the phrase altogether.

“Al, it’s nice to meet you too, but could you try to get some sleep?” Mr. Han hissed from his bedroll.

“Sorry!” he squeaked.  Crap.  Now he’d gone and made the man angry.  As he lay there lamenting the slow passage of time, he became aware that someone was coming toward him.  Before whoever it was could tap him on the shoulder, he rolled over.  It was Mr. Han, and he was offering his pipe to him.

“Come on, let’s go smoke.”

Al followed the man a little way from the group, to a broad flat rock that apparently was a way point for every journey into Xing.  He sat down, withdrew a pouch from his jacket and opened it.

“Ever smoke before?” he asked as he took out a neat little ball of shredded leaves to pack his bowl with.

“No, sir,” he answered.  “I was a suit of armor when most kids were sneaking around trying it, and once I got my body back I was too busy getting better to care.”

“In Xing, lots of people smoke.  And we smoke all kinds of things- tobacco, tea, bhang, cannabis, sometimes opium.”  He drew a lighter from another pocket.  “I understand cannabis is illegal in Amestris, but you won’t find a better medicine for damn near anything that ails you.”  He lit the bowl and puffed, filling his lungs with smoke and holding it while he passed both lighter and pipe to Al.  When he exhaled, he coughed a little.  “This particular kind will calm your nerves and help you sleep.”

Al looked suspiciously at the stinking pipe.  Granny’s pipe had always smelled good, like something sweet and woodsy.  This smelled like burning sheep shit.  “I don’t know how,” he said quietly.

“Put it to your lips, suck lightly to draw the flame into the bowl, then breathe it into your lungs.”

Al was surprised to find the tip of the pipe dry, despite having been in Han’s mouth.  He touched the flame to the bowl and took a breath-

Then coughed his guts up immediately after.

Mr. Han chuckled as he took the stuff from his hands.  “You’ll get used to it, believe it or not.  And it does get better.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?!” he gasped.  “How can you do that without dying!”

“Takes practice, like anything else.  Really, you should keep at it.  You won’t believe how much better you’ll feel once you get used to it.”  He lit up again and drew a bigger breath of the acrid smoke.  “Do it again, a smaller puff this time,” he choked as he struggled to keep as much of it in his lungs as possible.

Al looked wearily at him, but soon decided Mr. Han was a wise man who made regular trips across the biggest desert on the planet- he was someone that knew what he was talking about.  He did try again, a smaller breath as was suggested, and this time he didn’t die when he blew the smoke away, and he began to feel something happening…

“Better?” Han asked.

Al nodded.  “Something is definitely going to work.”

Han nodded and urged him to smoke some more.  “Three or four more little puffs like that and you’ll be ready to lie down.”

Sure enough, his brain began to feel foggy.  It was the type of feeling that made him think absently of a chalkboard being erased.  He couldn’t remember why he was so anxious anymore.  After all, they’d made it safely across the desert, Mei was alive and safe and very close by now, and now he couldn’t remember why  he was trying to remember what he was worrying about.

“Hey, Mr. Han?” Al asked slowly, his tongue feeling dry as the sand a few miles back.  “Am I supposed to be so thirsty?”

“It happens sometimes.  I have some special mints to help with that back at camp.”  He patted Al on the back.  “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Al drawled.  “It’s like, someone flipped a switch inside and everything’s all in alignment again.”

“Good.  Now maybe you can get some rest.  I imagine Mei is going to wear you out when she gets you alone, and you’re going to need more than adrenaline for that.”

Al smiled and started to laugh.  “She’s a firecracker, isn’t she?”

“No doubt.  I can already tell why she thought so much of you.  You’ll make a perfect pair.”  He stood up.  “Let’s go get one of those mints and settle in, alright?”  Al followed him back to camp and flopped down on his bedroll while Mr. Han dug around in another satchel.  A few moments later he was sucking happily on a strange kind of weak mint that did wonders for his dry mouth, and not long after that he was dozing without a care in the world.

In the morning, however, he was just as jittery as he’d been the night before.  He seemed to be picking up on Mei’s sense of urgency at feeling him so close to her.  When Mr. Han offered more of the herbal remedy, he took it, but not to the degree he had the night before.  Jerso and Zampano watched him with wide eyes.

“You really smoked that shit?” Jerso exclaimed.  “That’s dangerous stuff, Alphonse!”

“And that’s _horseshit_ ,” Han countered.  “We use the sacred herb for everything in Xing, from medicine to sacrament to food, and _no one_ has died from it.”  He gigged his horse into a smooth pace and all the other horses followed after him.  “Besides, isn’t the old adage, ‘don’t knock it ‘til you try it’?”

Thankfully that shut them all up on the subject and Al was able to enjoy the scenery.  All the books he’d read and all of Mei’s written descriptions couldn’t have prepared him for simply _how green_ everything was.  He was certain he’d never seen these shades of green back home.  The trees were enormously tall, and their canopies entwined so thickly about each other that there was scarcely a drop of sunshine to filter through to the ground.  Even so, there were flowers he’d never dreamed of before, birds and insects that both intrigued and terrified him, and sounds his ears had never heard before.  The jungle was sensory overload all over again, and Al was loving every minute of it.

They stopped to give the horses a break and to relieve themselves around midmorning.  Al took a moment to have a snack of a fresh banana knocked right off the tree that morning by Zampano and have another hit of Mr. Han’s magical calming smoke.  After a half a canteen of water and a mint, they were off again, and this time they wouldn’t stop until they got to Yangsho.  They were nearly there, now.

Just as they were about to arrive, he could feel Mei inside of himself.  He could feel that she could sense them.  He could feel her tremendous excitement.  He could feel her fretting about her hair looking perfect and her clothing being just right.

“Just on the other side of the curve,” Mr. Han said with a little grin.  “You’ll be able to see straight into the town, and she’ll likely be standing there at the edge waiting.  But coming from farmland, I’m sure you know how to ride a horse, don’t you, Al?”

Al looked at him, eyes hopeful.  “Is it alright?  I mean, he’s been through the desert-”

“And he’ll do it again in a few days.  Besides, it’s a short distance, and I’m sure he’d like to stretch his legs a little.”

Al leaned down and petted the gelding on the neck.  “C’mon, Kuro.  We got a lady to get to!”  He urged the horse into a gentle run, speeding ahead of the others and racing down to where he knew Mei was watching the road.  The road curved off to the left, weaving him between ancient trees and vines, and then it began to straighten-

And just as Han had predicted, Mei was standing at the road about a quarter mile away.

Kuro ran a little faster than Al was used to riding, but he was too worried about getting to Mei to give into his fear.  He felt the wind in his hair as he thundered down the road to her, and he closed his eyes and opened his mouth-

“ ** _MEI!!!_** ” he roared, standing up in the stirrups now, trying to slow the horse down.  She was getting closer and closer, and he could hear her voice calling back to him.

“Al!  Al, slow down!”  Her hands were circling her mouth in an effort to amplify her words, and Al returned to the saddle and started pulling on the reins to get Kuro to slow down more quickly.  When the horse stopped, he dismounted as if he’d been riding all his life and pumped his arms and legs as he ran flat out to the girl whose soul was bonded with his.  


* * *

Mei knew he was close, closer than ever.  She could feel how his heart was racing in his chest and how the only thought in his mind was to get to her as fast as he could.  He didn’t even realize he was pushing his mount faster than he was accustomed to, and when he came out of the curve she yelled for him to slow down.  He didn’t hear her, instead he offered a commanding cry of her name from a few hundred feet away and something inside her seemed to click back into place.  His _ki_ was flailing wildly all around, reaching her without his knowledge, simply because his energy and hers were naturally drawn together.  Even if he was unaware of the spiritual reunion they were having, Mei could sense it and would tell him about it later.  Even Xiao Mei seemed aware of it as she danced excitedly on her master’s shoulder.

He flew from his saddle and dashed toward her like someone running for their life.  Her heart was in her throat and her skin seemed to be tingling- the energy in the air was nearly visible to someone like her who could read it so well.  It sparked off the trees and the rocks and the air itself, and then he was colliding with her, and when his arms wrapped themselves around her it was as if a bright light blossomed and grew around them.

Mei was sobbing outright now, and Al was crying, too.  They couldn’t hold each other tight enough, and that warm, peaceful invisible light surrounding them only let her know that there was more at work between she and her Amestrian fiancé than a mere crush or a passing fling.  Their bond was soul deep, and now that they were together again, everything else paled in comparison to how _right_ his arrival was.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he whimpered as he tried to choke back his tears.  Her panda had attached herself to his shirt and was nuzzling his neck as he held Mei.

“Me too,” she agreed.  Mei leaned back a little to look at his face, so grown up and handsome, like a young Mr. Hohenheim.  Her hand covered his cheek and she smiled at him as tears streamed down her face.  “Welcome home.”

Al was visibly moved to hear her say such a thing, and just as the rest of his traveling party caught up to him, he dipped his face to hers and kissed her hard.  She expected him to be awkward, but he wasn’t, and despite all eyes being on them, she found she wasn’t embarrassed.  If he wanted to strip her down right there in front of them all and give himself to her, she wouldn’t have stopped him.  They were together, their souls were no longer split across hundreds of miles, and anything else did not warrant her focus right this minute.

The Amestrians that had come with him were chuckling and teasing him, that much she was aware of, but as to what they were actually saying, she didn’t have the desire to pay attention.  He fell to his knees and took her with him, drawing her legs up to wrap around his back.  She had a fleeting image in her head of him holding her this same way, but with the both of them naked and in the darkness of the room at the inn.  She stopped breathing for a scant moment as she pictured him entering her and putting to practical use all the things her mother had taught her from her days of being a royal concubine.

“Yes, that and more, I swear it,” he murmured in her ear, leaving her ears burning red and Mr. Han laughing at both of them as he scooped Xiao Mei up in his hands.

“There _is_ a law against fornicating in the streets, even as far out as Yangsho,” he reminded them gently.  “C’mon, someone might see you!” he laughed.

All at once Al stopped kissing her.  He was on his feet and two steps away before the loss of his warmth registered in Mei’s mind.  When she met his eyes, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and the anxiety coming from his _ki_ was worrying her.  She got the feeling something Han had said triggered a memory of something…

“Al?”

“Let’s go to the inn,” he said, smiling as he helped Mei to her feet.  “I’m dying to meet that old Yan-Na you’ve told me so much about!”  He tugged her to walk with him, hand in hand down the wide road into town.

“Is everything alright?” she asked in a whisper.

“We have a lot of catching up to do, Mei,” he said seriously.  “And we have lots to talk about.”

She sensed this was the root of the anxiety he was feeling, and now it was bleeding over into her own psyche.  As her stomach knotted around itself, she reached up and touched her kiss-swollen lips and wondered how they got so low after soaring so high mere minutes ago.  She only hoped the sudden tension between them would be gone before the night was over.  Xiao Mei returned to try and say hello to him a second time, to which he finally noticed her and rubbed her tiny head between her ears, a calmer, more relaxed person than what he was before.  Yes, if sharing his troubles with her made him normal again, she would listen to him for as long as it took to get it off his chest.

She smiled up at him.  “I really can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

He leaned down and kissed her quickly on the mouth, a small smile on his face.  “You don’t have to tell me, I can feel it.  And everything will be fine once we get behind closed doors.  I promise.”

Without knowing it, they both quickened their pace at the same time.


	3. CHAPTER TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- There is an image of a topless young girl in this chapter. It is not particularly sexual, but I wanted to give a heads up to anyone who may be reading at work or school.

All her life, from the day she was born, Rin had been taught about how lucky she was to be born a girl, and that she might be fortunate enough to bear a child for the Emperor one day.  When she learned to walk, her family guided her to do it with perfect posture and balance, ‘that way your figure will be perfect and pleasing for the Emperor’, she’d been told.  When she mastered chopsticks, they then taught her how to eat delicately, daintily, like a lady and not a common work hand.  ‘It will please the Emperor if he ever dines with you.’   Everything was an exercise in preparing for the day when she might be chosen to bear the responsibility of producing an heir for her village and clan for the Emperor.  
  
Now, she stood before the village elders, in fine silk robes that her mother had made for her.  Robes made from material that had cost them dearly- every valuable thing had been sold or traded in order to get it.  She fidgeted and tried not to sweat too much, because it would have to be washed, and in order to do it properly it would have to be taken apart and put back together again.  
  
The village elders had been narrowing the choices down for weeks.  They were down to five young girls, but only three of them would be sent to Shang-Po in hopes of being the Xian-Fu concubine to bear the intelligent, kind, and handsome Yao Ling a child.  For what seemed like the fiftieth time, Rin adjusted her hair pins as the elders meticulously examined the candidates down the row from where she stood nervously at the end.  
  
She had every right to be nervous.  Every girl of appropriate age was rounded up and systematically weeded out until they had a crop of perfect girls to choose from.  The elders had eliminated her cousin early on.  She was physically beautiful and strong as any horse they had, but slow and uneducated- ‘meant for farming, not birthing royal heirs’, the headman had said.  Many of her friends had become jealous that Rin had made it as far as she had.  
  
Now the wispy haired headman and his council stood before her, scrutinizing her face, her figure, likely recalling her past performances in the different trials she’d completed.  The four of them talked in hushed murmurs as they had her turn this way and that.  At last they wandered off into a little huddle and spoke amongst themselves.  
  
Waiting for their decision was awful and Rin’s stomach churned with anxiety.  It was an enormous honor to be chosen as a concubine for the Emperor.  Her family would be well taken care of by the royal treasury and never have to work the fields again.  Her grandmother would get the medicine she needed and any children she had after the royal heir would be considered nobility and have opportunities in Shang-Po, even if their royal sibling didn’t become Emperor after the Yao son’s death.  She herself would never want for anything, and all of her ancestors and family yet to come would be glorified and honored by her position.  She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to Ong-Xu.  
  
The elders lined up in front of them, and the headman spoke in his ancient voice.  “Kui, Mao, and Rin.  You shall be sent to Shang-Po three days after Prince Yao’s coronation.”  
  
Rin’s heart leapt with joy!  Now all she had to do was pray that his Celestial Highness found her most attractive of her village’s choices.  Her family enveloped her with cheers and embraces, while the other two girls had fallen to their knees in tears.  She had won a chance to meet the Emperor…  Now if she could only manage to win his favor.

 

* * *

Yangsho would be a place forever etched in Alphonse’s heart.  At long last, two long lost parts of a whole were reunited, in body and spirit.  The loss of his virginity was punctuated with a particularly difficult conversation with Mei.  Having to get her to take her rose colored glasses off to see the reality that now faced them was difficult.  But once he’d made her aware of the dangers that they could be walking right into, she understood then why he’d been so quick to cut their first kiss short.  When he told her about Mustang’s warning, she listened closely.  When he explained that whether they were officially married right away or not, he would not- _could not_ \- take another woman into his life in her place.  And only after all that had come the natural progression of years of tension built up through written correspondence and flashes of a supernatural connection.

It started with touches- soft and gentle and unsure.  Those escalated into hands wandering and some very ‘heavy petting’, as the kids back home had called it.  There were kisses.  There were embraces.  There was the fumbling of clothing and then the fumbling with the uncharted territory of a naked female body.  Luckily, their soul deep bond seemed to help with many of his questions.  Mei seemed to know exactly what she was doing, though she insisted it was from a more thorough sexual education than his own, not because she’d been with anyone yet.

And _then_ there had been physical bliss.  Her touches and kisses and ministrations electrified him.  And when he burst, he seemed to forget how to breathe and he gasped for air as he soared above the clouds, above the moon, past the universe until there was nothing but him and Mei and their souls wrapped around each other and bound in pure love.  It was almost too much, truth be told.  Just being near her made his nerve endings feel like singing with energy.  To be manipulated by her and brought to pieces at her hands was just this side of too incredible, too amazing.

When he came back to himself, a hunger had been ignited inside, and he did his damnedest to give back as much as he could to her.  She guided him breathlessly, instructed him with vocal inflections rather than words, through directed emotions through their link instead of commands.  The sight of her unraveling before his eyes, because of his attention, was more satisfying than he could have imagined, and he felt his face heat with desire for her again.  He’d reached out for one of  the many little tins Mustang had sent with him and he positioned himself as he’d read would be easiest for her to accept him into her small body.

 

  
It was the most incredible moment of his life once he realized he was seated as deep as he could go inside her.  She hadn’t winced in pain once, yet tears trickled down her cheeks as she smiled up at him.  She pulled him down for a kiss as she rocked against him, and the rest happened very quickly.  He lasted longer than he expected, likely from Mei’s diligent exploration of his body before they had gotten to that point.  She clenched him tight and breathed his name as he filled her, but she didn’t come a second time.  He buried his face in her neck when he climaxed, though, and whimpered incoherently there as he emptied himself again.  He rolled off of her, exhausted and close to tears, carefully disposing of the rubber before simply holding Mei in his arms and kissing her senseless.

Al dozed after that, naked and holding his other half close, she just as bare as him.  They were awoken with a sharp rap at the door from Zampano, him declaring in a serious voice that dinner was ready and that children needed to eat to replenish their energy.  They’d dressed and gone down to eat, but everyone seemed to be smirking as if they’d all been witness to the incredible love making that had transpired in the room above them.

After they ate, Mei suggested that the two of them go with Mr. Han and Yan-Na to her special room with the magnetic lining to discuss what Al had made clear to her, to share with them Mustang’s warning and get their opinion of it all.  Now, here they were, telling the words of advice all over again to old ears for the first time.  The old woman agreed wholeheartedly with the next Dragon.  Mr. Han however believed they didn’t have to be quite so uptight about hiding their relationship.

“Mei  is a skilled assassin in her own right now,” Han said, hands on his hips.  “And I saw your brother, how he fought.  I assume you can fight just as well, right?” he asked Al, whose head was swimming in the manmade magnetic field.

“Yes,” he answered immediately.  “I’ve been training and sparring with my brother since I was physically able to, even as a child.  I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in, and stronger than ever.”

Han’s eyes softened.  “I don’t think you’ll have anything to worry about, then.”

“Distance alkahestry,” Yan-Na warned.  “Blow-guns.  Sniper rifles.  No amount of martial arts training is going to stop a bullet.  I say better safe than sorry, at least until the country gets a good feel for ya.”

Han shook his head.  “Many of the villages already know the Princess was riding out to greet the next Dragon, and not to simply escort him to the palace.  I don’t think it’s going to matter how careful you are, lots of people already know you two are going to end up lovers.”

Mei sighed.  “Ling still hasn’t figured out a way to get me out of the matchmaking process yet.  Technically, I could be executed for this if my Imperial Father were to awaken right now.”  She turned her dark eyes toward Al and spoke quietly.  “I think we should do our best to hide our feelings for each other until after Ling’s coronation.  Things will be a lot easier when he has imperial law on his side.”

Al reached for her hand and squeezed it.  “If that’s the best course of action, that’s what we’ll do.  Whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

He could feel through their soul deep connection that she was honored by his love for her, and she was grateful they were together, even if they still had to be extremely discreet about it.

“Alright, back upstairs then,” Yan-Na giggled as Han helped her down from her chair.  “Shang-Po’s a long way away, and you won’t be afforded the protection and privacy that you have here.  So go back up there and get back to it!” she crowed.

His face was hot with embarrassment.  Then what he heard threatened to make his jaw come unhinged.

“So, how’d you do?  Didja get her off?”

Han laughed heartily.  “Of course he did!  The whole place shuddered on its foundations three times!”

“Wh-what?” he exclaimed as he climbed out of the cellar.

“Apparently, you weren’t kidding about that soul link of yours, Al!  The whole place shook for a few seconds three times.  The _ki_ in the air was enough to nearly strangle ol’ Yan-Na and me.  Bear and Mouse even grimaced at it, and they aren’t as adept at reading _ki_ as we are!”

The old woman tapped her pipe near her temple.  “Could _see_ your _ki_.  Like little sparks flashing in the air when it surged at its strongest.  Either you two truly are soul bound to one another or Amestrians are better at sex than we previously thought.”

Mei’s face was bright red as she answered, “He was first, then me… then him again.”

She nodded sagely.  “Then you still owe her one, Dragon.  Get upstairs and get to it.  Enjoy your youth and your stamina.  And take advantage of the time you can spend unguarded with one another before leaving in the morning.  Don’t worry, it won’t be too long of a time you’ll have to spend apart.  Prince Yao is very clever, I’m sure he’ll figure out a way around the matchmaking rituals.”

Thankfully, Jerso and Zampano had nothing to say about the building shaking.  They only gave proud smiles from where they sat drinking their sake and learning Mah Jong from Gen.  At some point, he was sure he was going to hear it from them, but for now he was safe from whatever jibes they had.  He followed Mei quickly up the steps, trying not to notice too much how her hips swayed as they moved ever upward.  But once safely in their room,  he wasted no time in showing her what that sway had done to him.

When the sun rose, they were still at it.  The knock on the door alerted them to come down for breakfast, and a half an hour later they did.  By now, they were truly exhausted.  Bear and Mouse arranged for them to eat in the wheelhouse, and before they’d even rolled out of town, Al was curled up in the soft bed of pillows, holding Mei tight to his chest, and sleeping more soundly than he had since he’d gotten his body back.

* * *

They’d been out on the road for two days when Mei realized that Al was picking up the language faster than his companions.  When she mentioned it to him, he shrugged, citing his immediate need for it as a subconscious trap for the Xingese tongue.  It wasn’t until she was thinking desperately about her favorite sweet at the palace that she realized it was more than that.

She was thinking about her most favorite dessert in the whole wide world- Moon Cakes.  She loved the pale milk jelly that surrounded it, giving it the color of the moon, and the inside made up of the sweetest sugar and honey…  The molds gave them a thousand different appearances, though she loved them best when they were shaped like stars.  She could eat an entire platter of them and not care a bit about what it did to her figure.  She could almost remember the taste if she thought hard enough, and then she wondered how Al would like them.  She wondered what shape he would like, if he would like the honey and sugar ones or the red bean ones, and then he tapped her on the shoulder and interrupted her thoughts.

“What’s a Moon Cake?” he asked.

She blinked at him.  “Who told you about Moon Cake?” she countered.

“I thought you were talking about one,” he replied, puzzled.

Had she said something out loud?  No, she was certain she hadn't.  She’d been looking out the small window, her chin in her hand.  If she’d spoken, she would have felt her whole head moving, and she hadn’t.  Had Al been able to read her mind somehow?

She needed to try something.  She closed her eyes and turned away from him, concentrating very hard on the word, “sugar”.  She said it in Amestrian and Xingese in her mind, back and forth, and then imagined it written in Xingese.  After a few moments, she took Al’s notebook and pencil and wrote the character down.  She knew he’d never seen it before, yet she asked him anyway, “What does this say?”

Of course at first, he said he had no idea.  She encouraged him to study it for a moment and make a best guess.  He took the notebook and sighed, frustrated, and stared at the symbol.  After a few minutes, he scratched his head and turned it this way and that.  Finally he looked at her and asked, “I don’t know  why, but I believe it says ‘sugar’?”

Mei’s eyes widened and she reached for his hands.  “Al… I think we’re telepathic.  At least a little bit.”

“What’re you talking about?” he huffed as he tossed the notebook into the pile of pillows.

“Think about it,” she commented as she moved closer to him.  “Remember when we were apart?  And you could sense when we were in so much danger and I was so afraid?  And I could sense your joy at getting your kitten?  Al, you’re picking up the language extremely well, much faster than Zampano or Jerso.  But most importantly, I was just _thinking_ about Moon Cakes.  It wasn’t an emotional stressful thing, and you picked up on it.  Just now, I was thinking of the word sugar.  I said it in my head and pictured the word, and you got it!”  She smiled at him.  “I don’t understand how our connection works, but it seems we’re connected even more deeply than we thought.”

She watched as Al frowned in thought.  Then he looked at her, saying nothing, simply staring her down.  At first she was uncomfortable, then she got a strange feeling.  It was like remembering something from a long time ago.  The ‘memory’ seemed fuzzy and unclear, and then all at once she realized, he was showing her when he first felt her on that fateful day their connection first made itself known.

“You were getting ready to go running…” she whispered in awe.

“Yes, I was.”

She leaped into his arms and kissed him, sharing with him what she’d been doing when she first felt him.  When she pulled away from him, she ran her fingers through his hair and decided, “We’ve got three more days until we reach Shang-Po.  We’re going to work together with this bond to try to get you as proficient with Xingese as possible.  From now on, I want you speaking in Xingese only as much as possible.”

“ _Shi Shuōhuà_ ,” he replied, grinning.

She cooed in return, “ _Wo ai ni,_ ” smirking.

He kissed her in reply, and from then on, unless he was speaking to Jerso or Zampano, he spoke entirely in Xingese.

* * *

It had been a busy afternoon.  She and Ling had been going since before sunrise, beginning their day with some yoga in the garden behind their small house, then having a filling, light breakfast before meeting with Hachi and getting a final fit for the new robes he would be wearing to the coronation.  After that, there were meetings with royal speech writers, something Ling had requested himself.  He chose three scribes to write him a speech for the glorious day he would ascend to the throne, stating that he would pull ideas from each speech and put them into his own words- something that was unheard of, but incredibly inspiring to those would soon be in his service.  When Lan Fan questioned him on taking on so much work just before the ceremony, he answered cheerfully that this would be the least complicated thing he would undertake during his reign, and that his people deserved to hear _his_ words, not a writer’s.

The rest of the day, for Lan Fan at least, had been fairly lazy.  She’d been fitted for special robes as well- robes that could hide a myriad of weapons while still looking like a noblewoman.  Ling had told the ‘party planning committee’ that he wanted her seated on the palace steps with him, beside his mother.  His reason was that she would defend his life to the death, as well as the life of anyone up there with him, and so duty called for her to be as armed as she’d been on the Promised Day in Amestris, if not more.

Ling had sent her down into the city, to gather the words of his people and bring back to him anything that sounded suspicious.  He also hinted for her to check up on the Ki clan living in the southern section of the city, and to see if anyone from the Yao and Fu village had come yet.  While chatting quietly with a Yao clansman, she heard the gates opening.  She scaled the nearest building, climbed up onto the rooftops and watched as Mei’s wheelhouse came into view.  The Dragon had arrived.

She sprinted to her lord and lover’s side making the trek from the lower districts to the palace proper in minutes.  She slipped up onto a ledge and in through a window, then disappeared into the interior passages that were home to the hidden bodyguards- bodyguards meant to always be alert but never seen.  She burst into his inner office and gasped, “They’re coming through the gate!”

Ling rose immediately from his desk, abandoning the speeches, and they hurried together to the balcony.  They watched as Mei’s wheelhouse ambled down the city’s main road, an entourage of guards and servants protecting the giant carriage from the crowds of waving, cheering  people.  His face looked ready to split from the smile he wore.

“Let’s go welcome our Dragon and his guests!” he proclaimed, grabbing her hand and stepping into the hidden passage she’d just exited from.  They raced along in the darkness, making their way to the royal stables.

When they arrived, Mouse was just commanding the horse to slow as they pulled carefully into the barn.  Ling couldn’t control his excitement, and he hollered out for Alphonse as soon as the noise died down some.

“Al!  Welcome home!” he cried out in Amestrian.

The young man’s blonde head poked unceremoniously out of one of the curtained windows.  “ _W_ _ǒ_ _hěn gāoxìng dào zhèl_ _ǐ_ _lái!_ ” he answered in perfect Xingese.

Lan Fan felt her jaw drop slightly.  How did he learn it so well?  And so quickly?  Mei had said he didn’t know _any_ Xingese that she was aware of…

Ling chuckled to himself and flipped back to his native language.  “I’m glad we don’t have to converse strictly in Amestrian!  But I’m certainly surprised to hear you speaking like a native already!”  He came forward and spoke to Mouse briefly, asking about their journey and if any Hong supporters had been seen while on the road.

The bodyguard shook his head.  “Didn’t see a single one.  Couldn’t sense anyone either.  Perhaps the rumors of them moving north are true after all.”

Ling’s face was concerned as he nodded.  The fact that Hong Chen was out there somewhere, with others who supported his claim to the throne and his cruelty, was something that even Emperor Wu couldn’t get a handle on.  The boy was stealthy and persuasive, and deadly if you made him angry.  No one had seen him for nearly a year now, but he’d left a bloody sign on occasion.  Once it was a lonesome farming family that lay between villages- his family crest drawn in blood on the man’s front door.  Another time it had been a woman, raped on the road and the frog crest carved into her stomach.

While Hong and his gang were a rag tag bunch at best, no one knew how many of them there actually were, or what their plan was.  All that was known for certain was that some of them could tap into the telegraph wires and intercept messages, as had been proven when a medical shipment to a village on the coast had been ambushed and raided.

“I’m glad to hear the journey was safe, then,” Ling commented.  “Take Bear and the others, go get washed up, and get some rest.  Thank you for bringing the Dragon home.”

“Yes, My Lord,” he replied with a bow.  He called out to the others and they left the soon-to-be Emperor alone with the stable hands and his honored guests.

Al exited the wheelhouse first, then lifted Mei down effortlessly, Xiao Mei bounding out onto his shoulder after that.  He wandered over to Jerso and Zampano and went together to meet Ling properly.

“My Lord,” Al began, already slipping into the formal speech Mei had shared with him through their incredible bond.  “May I present to you my personal companions, Fred Zampano and Michael Jerso, both second lieutenants, retired.  They are chimaeras searching for an alkahestrical way to undo the alchemical process that put them in this state.”

“Lan Fan has told me about your desires to become human again,” Ling replied extending his hand to both men.  “I wish you the best of luck and hope you can find a remedy in my country.”

They gave him nervous smiles until Al translated for them, then they both bowed and gave a heavily accented thanks.

“Oh, you don’t speak Xingese as well as Alphonse?” Ling asked in Amestrian.

Zampano scratched his head.  “No, Your Highness.  It seems he cheated a bit…”

Al’s face flushed with embarrassment as he laughed.  “I think it’s because Mei and I are discovering just how deep our connection goes!  Apparently we’re somewhat telepathic and can share thoughts and memories between us.”

Ling called out for one of the servants who were assisting with the luggage to send word to the kitchens.  “I want a full seven course meal, traditional foods, lots of the peach wine, and for an intimate affair.  Only the six of us will be dining.  Have it ready to serve in two hours time, please- at my private home.”  The young man bowed and scurried right away to give word for dinner.

Lan Fan touched Ling’s arm, reminding him discretely to inform his sister of the sleeping arrangements.  He nodded.

“Yes, that’s right.  Mei-mei, I have prepared your quarters with a larger bed and added a chest for Al’s belongings until Lan-chan and I move from the garden house.  I will not occupy the Emperor’s quarters until after our father has either recovered or passed on.”  He grinned at the two of them.  “I’m afraid the current Dragon is slow getting his things together.  I have no rooms to give you, Al.  Not until I have the power to throw him out.”

He spoke sincerely in Amestrian.  “I am sorry your father is suffering in such a state.  If his condition had been caught sooner, he could have been treated and been cured before it got to this point.”

“I appreciate your words, and perhaps we can do something about such things in the future.  But for now, the situation is what it is, and I’m afraid we’re simply waiting for him to give up and die.”

Lan Fan knew it hurt Ling to admit that to himself.  The two of them had become close as friends in the time they’d gotten to know each other.  “Have you seen him today?” she asked.  “Perhaps Wu-san has improved a little.”

Ling shook his head and smiled sadly at her.  “No, I haven’t.  I’ve been busy with the speeches today and haven’t even stopped to pray for him today.”  He took a deep breath.  “Mei-mei, I leave the Amestrians to you.  Please be good to my Dragon and be sure that our guests are comfortable and have their every need fulfilled.  We shall meet for dinner at the garden house.”

Mei bowed her head in reply.  She gathered their foreign friends and escorted them into the Peony Palace, Ling and Lan Fan watching them.

After they were out of sight, Ling turned to her and asked, “Will you come with me to pray?  We won’t stay long.”

Lan Fan was honored.  He’d never asked her before, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t want her to see the Emperor in the state he was in or if it he wanted his prayers to be a private, personal experience.  She took his hand and squeezed it.

“Of course, qing ai de,” she replied.  He kissed her briefly on the cheek and they entered the palace.

The Imperial apartment was lavish, gilded, and dim.  She’d never seen it before, not even when guarding her prince.  The front room was full of flowers and the second room held a raised futon and a musician playing softly.  Ling dismissed her and tugged the sheer curtain aside, revealing the gaunt face of the Emperor.

“Wu-san, it’s Ling.  Can you open your eyes for me?”

Lan Fan watched how Ling took his father’s hand.  There was reverence and love in his touch and she bowed slightly, even though the man couldn’t see it.

“I’ve brought Lan-chan today.  We’re going to pray together.”  He reached for a teak box, long and ornate and filled with incense sticks.  He took four sticks out and lit them from a nearby lamp.  He handed two to Lan Fan and they grasped the sticks between hands folded in prayer.

As she prayed for the Emperor, she also prayed for Ling.  He would be taking over a nation very soon, and despite his education and clear ability to do the job, she prayed for an easy transition, for a peaceful reign, for a long and happy life with happy subjects…   She prayed for Wu to wake up, and if he couldn’t wake up, then for a safe passage into the next life.

After a few long minutes, the sticks had burned down to nothing.  Ling took the sticks from her fingers and placed them in the fireplace.  He knelt beside the man in the bed again, kissed his forehead and said softly, “We all look forward to your waking up, Ba-ba.  Please wake up soon.”

Lan Fan placed her hand lovingly on Ling’s back as he shared with his comatose father what all was he had been dealing with today, but left out the arrival of his foreign Dragon.  Ling didn’t want to upset him with subject, as he’d mentioned to Lan Fan before.

Just as they were leaving, the high priestess entered with his meal and her magic straw.  She seemed to be relieved that Ling had brought someone with him, and Lan Fan bowed toward her in passing.  After that, they went to retrieve the speech scrolls, then went to their garden house, where a long, low table was being set for the luxurious dinner Ling had ordered.  He thanked the servants for doing so on such short notice.  They seemed to appreciate his gratitude and smiled, explaining that it was no inconvenience at all.

He led them to their private bedroom, where no one was allowed but them, and they enjoyed a moment of rest in their bed, simply lying together on top of the blankets.

“What’s left to do?” she asked, referring to the coronation preparations.

“Nothing other than my speech and the purification ritual.  That will begin the day before, and I will have to abstain from both food and you.”  He held her close and sighed.  “I guess we’ll have to work it out of our systems before that day comes.”

“There will be plenty of time for that afterward, she reassured him.  “I’m not going anywhere, I swear it.”

“I’ll have to spend the night at the temple.  I won’t see you again until the ceremony begins.”

“It’s alright.  I’ll be with your family and Alphonse and the others.  I’m sure there will be plenty of distractions.”

He grew quiet, and after a while he murmured, “Will you pray for him in my absence?  Visit him and light incense for me?”

She wound her arms around him, kissing the corner of his mouth.  “Of course.  Don’t worry about that, it will only add to your anxiety.”    A few moments later and they were up and changing into more casual clothing.  But Lan Fan was certain that the upcoming welcoming feast and their dinner companions would help him to relax.  And knowing that helped her to relax a little as well.

* * *

Once, a long while back now, Tao had been one of Hong Chen’s most beloved servants.  He was a stable hand, slow minded but strong as any ox in the barn.  It had been a very long time since he’d seen his master and lover, but he still kept up with him through the magic wires that carried his words across the miles to wherever Chen was.

He helped uncouple the horses that brought the golden headed Dragon and that liar Yao’s whore sister to the Peony Palace.  He fed and watered them, brushed them down and threw a blanket over them and made sure they had feed for the night.  He helped another stable hand to guide that Chang whore’s wheelhouse into its slot and helped to carry the garbage from inside away.  He’d heard Yao give the order for a lavish meal at his little playhouse in the garden.

And once his duties were finished for the day, he went for a walk.  He snuck out of the gates and moved through the jungle on an unseen yet well known path.  Eventually he came to a place where the wires overhead met with a thinner wire that dropped off to the ground.  Attached to it was a leather box, buried half underneath some heavy stones.

Tao had no problem lifting the stones, and he opened the lid to find a small telegraph tapper inside.  He pulled out a scrap of paper and began tapping.  He knew he didn’t get all the letters right, but that was okay.  So long as they knew he was trying to make contact, Chen would send someone with a brighter mind than his to investigate.

Maybe he’d come himself this time…  Maybe they could go off in the shadows and have a few moments alone, pawing at each other desperate for the other’s touch…

This was not the ‘secure line’ the palace officials designated for emergencies.  It was likely they never monitored this line at all.  Tao kept tapping, hoping most of his message made it through.  He spelled it out carefully in whispers, but sometimes his brain just didn’t make them right in his head.

At last the message was sent.  He waited for a long while to see if a response would come, even though he’d never gotten a response before.  Eventually he decided to go back and get some sleep.  He covered it all back up and wandered back to the stable barracks, falling into a deep sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

“Chang and Dregin ar her.  Too Amisrtans came with.  What now?”

Auburn bangs fell in his eyes as he read the scrawled message.  “What the hell is this?” Hong barked.

“Word from the Palace line,” a graying man answered.  “Looks like something’s happening in Shang-Po.  I’d heard the Chang girl was bringing a guest back to the Palace, sounds like she brought the next Dragon with her.”

Hong sneered as he tossed the message into the fire.  “That damn Yao Ling is going to lead this nation to ruin,” he hissed.  “First he steals the throne away from me, then conveniently gets the Emperor out of his way, and now he’s appointing an Amestrian to the Emperor’s Dragon!  It’s all a mockery!”

“Should we investigate?” the older man asked.

Chen sighed.  He knew the day would come when he would have to return to the capitol city.  He just was expecting to have an army and a following before he did.  “The coronation is in three days now, right?  It probably wouldn’t hurt to send a scout.”  He stood and cracked his back.  “Send Jian.  He’s got a spectacular memory and good attention to detail.  And Fei?” he said to the man before he walked away.  “Don’t disturb me, I’m going to be busy for the rest of the night.”

Fei nodded.  “Of course, My Lord.  If it’s urgent I’ll sound the horn.”

“Good.”

He walked off toward the tent he called home for the moment.  He stepped through the flap and began untying his shirt, and from the corner came a panicked grunting.  He said nothing, continuing to undress until he was fully nude.  Then he stalked toward his prey…

“Now, now, ma-ma…” he whispered against her temples.  “You know what to do.”

His mother looked nothing like the delicate woman that had collapsed in the dirt at the palace, sobbing at the loss of his throne.  On that day she’d been more beautiful than he’d ever seen her.  Now she was much too thin, much too pale, smudged from head to toe in dirt and grime, grunting wordlessly and shaking her head emphatically.

She’d dared to tell him to put her down when he made a break for it.  He’d killed his guards himself, then crept into her rooms and told her he was running away, going to start all over.  He wanted her to come with him, because he loved her.  She tried to tell him he wasn’t even her real son, that the true Hong child had died at birth and the Emperor gave her a different baby to raise.  After they stopped running, he cut her tongue out for telling such vicious lies.

Now though, in a unit of men with only one woman, he used her like a concubine.   He bound her hands and feet to the support posts of the tent as if her were going to quarter her with a horse.  Instead, he fucked her roughly over and over, suckled from her sagging breasts ,and made her drink his semen when he came.

Tonight, he began by sucking her nipples raw, then stuffing his cock into her maimed mouth, then breached her rear entrance without oil.  She sobbed with agony until well after he’d pulled out of her.  He tugged her head to the side and kissed her neck sensually, twiddling between her folds before withdrawing from her completely.

He packed a pipe and lit it.  “Ma-ma, when I become Emperor I will set you free.  You’d better do all you can to help me get to the throne.”

She nodded weakly as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“You did good tonight.  Would you like a warm bath?”  He watched as she nodded again.

He came to her side and began to lick her clean, and he closed his eyes as he enjoyed her taste.

After the moon had moved quite a pace, he emerged from the tent, sweaty and sated, and pleased with himself after soothing his mother to sleep.  He did love her, after all.  If only he could show Xing how much he loved them as well.


	4. CHAPTER THREE

Jerso and Zampano eyed him curiously when he settled his things in their room.  
  
“What?” he asked.  
  
Zampano shook his head.  “You really think you have to be so cautious _here_?”  He gestured around the room.  “There’s assassins in every corner of this building!  If the prince told them to keep your relationship with Mei secret, don’t you think they would?”  
  
Al furrowed his brow and sighed.  “As much as I’d love to share a room with her right away, it’s out of respect for the people I serve that I want to prove myself to them before making my love for her known.”  
  
“It’s just like you to follow the rules,” Jerso commented as he turned to begin sorting his dirty clothing into the laundry basket that had been provided for the weary travelers.  “Your bond with her defies the rules already.  Surely they would understand if you explained to them that even if there was a choice, you couldn’t deny the fact that you’re soul bound to one another.”  
  
Al sat down on the much smaller third bed that had been brought up for him.  “I don’t want them to see me as someone who breezed in from Amestris and stole not only the second most powerful and wealthy position in their country, but also a princess.  I want to show them the reason why I was chosen for this.  When they realize I have their best interests at heart, taking Mei for my wife will not offend so many people, or hurt them as deeply.”  He ran his hand through his hair and continued, “Besides, Ling’s got to find a way to make it legal for me to marry her.  Right now she’s still eligible to be married off to another Xingese noble.  And as I’ve already been told, I’m not suitable for honorary nobility status because of my own mixed heritage.  With Dad being full Xerxian and Mom being Amestrian, they told me that was too many different bloodlines to have in our children.”  
  
At that moment, there was a knock at the door and Al called, “Come in!”  
  
A slender girl dressed in royal servant robes entered, her eyes toward the floor and smiling gently.  “His Highness, Prince Yao, has asked me to take you to the bath house and then to be measured for new clothes.  If you’ll follow me, please…”  
  
The girl, Mingxia she called herself,  led them to a bathing room that had been built over a natural hot spring and showed them to a dressing chamber filled with traditional Xingese clothing to wear to dinner with the Heir in Waiting.  Al noticed her grinning to herself about their extreme modesty in her presence.  She waited for them to give her the soiled clothing they’d had on before leaving, and afterward they washed then climbed into the springs for a good soak.

  
The conversation was light and the water felt amazing on sore, travel weary muscles.  His companions teased him about his first sexual encounters (as he expected they’d do eventually), then they all joined in on speculating about Ed’s experiences (or lack thereof).  Before long, their stomachs were rumbling and they got out to slip into their new clothing.  
  
After some trial and error on tying the zhiju robes, Al tugged on a fat silk rope and Mingxia appeared again, this time to lead them to what Mei called ‘Ling’s playhouse’.   Once they set eyes on it, it was easy to see how she’d come up with that name.  
  
Mei came out to the porch with a bright smile.  “Welcome, everyone!” she exclaimed as she motioned for them to come in.  “Our meal has just been prepared- come in and eat!”  
  
Al gave her a warm grin in return, feeling her soul buzzing with joyful energy at being reunited once more face-to-face.  She sat them at a simple low table, already covered in exotic foods.  Ling and Lan Fan were not dressed as formally as they were a few hours ago.  In fact, they looked right at home in the small house in what Al assumed was something akin to sweats and a t-shirt back home.   
  
“I was expecting something more opulent,” he commented to Ling.  
  
“Royal Xingese clothing is very hard to eat in,” the young lord replied as he reached for some dish that Al couldn’t name.  “Too many layers to be functional, too hot to be comfortable.  I like to be able to eat as easily as possible.”  He dismissed the servants, who gave their wishes for a good meal, and then he turned to his guests.  “Go ahead!  Try it all!  And if you want more, we’ll make more!  Tonight you are in the lap of luxury.”  He passed a carafe of sake toward Zampano.  “Do you drink?  One of the best wines we have is made here at the palace.  Maybe you’d like to become a wine maker’s apprentice?”  
  
Al let Mei fill his plate for him (since she knew what he would like and wouldn’t like because of the bond they shared) and spoke to Lan Fan.  “How have you been, Lady Fan?” he smiled.  “How have you adjusted to your new life?”  
  
Her cheeks pinked as she bowed her head, chewing frantically to clear her mouth before speaking.  “I’m very well, Alphonse.  And living with Ling has proved to be an adventure all its own, one I’m still navigating cautiously. I am ‘enjoying the ride’ though, as you say.”  
  
He nodded at her.  “Good.  Mei and I…  we’re still trying to figure out which path is best to take.”  
  
“It will come to you more easily once your position is official and you can begin fulfilling your duties.  Right now, things are still uncertain for all of us,” she replied as she plucked a juicy yellow vegetable from her plate and popped it into her mouth.  
  
“Yes,” Ling agreed.  “The coronation celebrations have already begun in the lower districts.  The food stalls are all mostly set up and some are already cooking.  People are already in the inns and before it actually happens, the place will be swarming with visitors from all over Xing.  I’ve got six units of soldiers pulled from along the southern coast to act as special police, in addition to my guards and assassins…”  He paused for a drink.  “Three days and I will be Emperor.  Four days and you will be the Emperor’s Dragon.  I’m afraid it’s going to be a trial by fire, Alphonse.  After today there will be no luxuries of time.  Make the most of this small break we have- we’ll be going to work directly afterward.”  
  
Al gave Ling a confident nod.  “Of course.”  
  
“Bear presented me with a letter from Yan-Na and a letter from Han.  I understand both of their views concerning your relationship with my sister.  But if _I_ place a bed in her room with the intent for you to sleep with her, that is not something you have any control over, correct?”  
  
“Still,” Al said, “refusing the offer so publically may help us both out.  It shows her loyalty to your father’s wishes, my loyalty to my position, and your… what’s the word I’m looking for… ‘nonchalant’ take on what our relationship is.  It’s what the military back home would call putting a spin on the situation.  Taking something that could be potentially negative and giving it a positive appearance.”  
  
Ling grinned at him as he shoveled food into his mouth.  “And that’s why I know you’ll make a good Dragon.  Your concern for Xing as a whole is more than your concern for anything in your own life.”  He turned to Zampano and Jerso.  “And I’ve got one of the most renowned and revered alkahestrists coming after the coronation to study the two of you.  It may take weeks of experimenting, but I have no doubt that Hoi-sama will be able to figure out your dilemma and reverse the chimera effects.  
  
“As for the coronation itself, I spoke with Bear and Mouse prior to retrieving you and you’ll be taken down to the armory tomorrow and fitted for ceremonial armor.  It will cover your faces and allow you to stay close without being on the palace steps.  I’m not sure if you know this, but commoners on the palace steps on such an occasion is beyond disrespectful.”   He smiled at them and continued, “While I consider you to be honored guests, my people will not, despite that Jerso could probably pass for someone from the coastal clans.  Even Alphonse won’t be allowed on the steps, not until he is named Dragon and gains that rank.”  
  
“So what will we do while you’re off preparing for everything?” Al asked.  
  
“Mostly you’ll be getting fitted for clothing.  The noble robes of your station, dress armor, battle armor, which you might think of like your Amestrian military uniform,” Ling replied as he tapped his chin in thought.  “Let’s see, there’s boots and shoes to be made, ceremonial and battle swords to be chosen, you’ll need to write a speech Al…  I encourage you all to do as much as you can in your down time.  I’m not kidding when I say we have to go to work almost as soon as you assume your title.  This country has been running without a real leader for months and it’s time to get us back on track.”  
  
“Yes, My Lord,” Al replied as Jerso and Zampano nodded in agreement.  
  
He turned to Lan Fan.  “I want your eyes and ears as many places as possible before the big day.  Gather the best weaponry we have for your robes and be my little bird while you do it.  We have to be prepared for Hong to come back at any moment, particularly now with the gates being open.”  
  
“Do you want Wu-san moved to a more secure location?” she asked.  
  
“I’d thought about moving him to the temple, but that’s far less guarded.  I might have him moved to the dungeon, simply because they’d never look there for him.”  
  
Al watched as she furrowed her brows and got angry with him, arguing like an old married couple.  He chuckled into his napkin and went back to tasting various things on his plate.  The situation was very serious, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them.  
  
“If it’s any help, we’d be glad to stand guard at his bedside,” Jerso spoke up.  “We’d probably be less conspicuous that way, and our special talents could come in handy.”  
  
Ling and Lan Fan shared a look, then he asked Al his opinion.  He thought carefully, then said, “I fought beside both of these men, and I can attest that they’re like no other enemy I’ve ever encountered.  They’ll keep would-be assassins on their toes for sure, and their strength and skills are no match for amateurs.  I think you would be fine to leave Emperor Wu in his chambers with Jerso and Zampano, as well as two or three other guards.”  
  
At last Ling proclaimed, “Alright, you may stand personal guard to my father on the day of the coronation.  The palace guards will take you under their wing and quickly train you.  I imagine it can’t be much different than the military training you already have, so it should be an easy transition.”  He gave a sigh of relief and then crowed, “Enough business!  Let’s enjoy all this food while we’ve got a few minutes to ourselves!”  
  
And they did.

* * *

Every able bodied person that arrived from Binyi was groomed for the famous Fu clan martial artistry, as a way to show gratitude to the Yao family for accepting their fealty.  And those who weren’t so able of body were given other tasks to be productive- shelling beans or collecting eggs, tending to table-top herb gardens or sewing.  Of the twenty-seven survivors in the destitute village, sixteen were now in the dojo regularly.  This included Mei’s mother Niao, her younger half sister Nishi, and most of her cousins.

Seven Chang families were paired up with seven Fu families as they waited for new housing, but only six homes were built.  Niao and Nishi were living with Nui, Lan Fan’s _ki_ specialist uncle,  and Niao and Nui had fallen in love during their time together.  Because of living with Nui and learning so much about _ki_ and how to read it, they became very adept at reading it as well.  Both Chang women had become distinguished _ki_ readers and their physical skills were on par with any of the others in the Fu’s guerilla forces.

So when Niao felt life in her womb again, after having buried two children who perished from fever three years ago, she was conflicted as to how she felt.

Nui came home from patrol and sensed it right away, and he swept her into his arms and thanked her for bearing him a child to love, a child to knit their families together.  He arranged for an immediate marriage and over the course of a few hours, the Fu and Yao families were celebrating the union of one of their finest warriors to the Emperor’s Binyi concubine.

Niao was overjoyed to finally have wedded after years of basically being nothing more than a common whore, but was scared of having another baby.  Her oldest daughter spent all her time at the palace now, her only other living child nearly died with the fever when it came to her, and both her sons lay dead and gone in the rocky hills of Binyi.  What if this little one passed on too?  What if something took Nui away?  Or his son Bei, whom she’d come to love as her own?

She didn’t have to worry about it for long.  Lan Fan had written that she wanted every person trained to read _ki_ in Shang-Po for up to a week before and a week after the coronation to scout for Hong insurgents and to hopefully spot problems in the crowds before they began.  They would be independent of the Palace assassins and on loan as a personal favor to her, and because it was an honor to be called to serve the Palace in this way, they went.  The four of them strapped on their assassins garb and made their way to the capitol, and she put the fate of her loved ones in the hands of the gods.

Upon reaching the city, they spread out and took separate posts in the trees to keep an eye on the grounds below.  The second day, she watched the royal wheelhouse enter the gates and Niao smiled.  She could sense the energy coming from her daughter inside, and found that the things she’d spoken about with her- about being connected with that young man from Amestris- was true.  Maybe she’d stop in and visit her after the festivities were over and let her know she was expecting another child.  Maybe it was time to prepare her for bearing her own children…  The woman smiled at that.  She was barely past thirty and could become a grandmother now.  For the first time she smiled down at her stomach and gave it a loving pat, only showing just a little at this point.

“I can’t wait to meet you, little one,” she whispered.  And then she snuck back into the trees and resumed her vigil.  


* * *

The palace was in a frenzy, and it was one thing that Mai Renchen would not miss once he left.  It was near impossible to get anything accomplished when there was so much racket going on out in the halls.  He huffed and walked out onto the balcony, though that wasn’t any relief from the noise.  At least the people who cheered when he came outside seemed to be happy to see him.  He waved, turned, and went back in again.

To be fair he wasn’t really working on anything particularly important.  He was systematically clearing out his office of all his personal belongings and basically moving out.  The personal quarters were still a wreck with crates and various servants packing up his things to move in with his most affluent daughter, as was customary for an ousted official.  He looked around the lavish room and sighed.  He’d truly never thought he’d be replaced, not while he was alive anyway.  And by a damned _Amestrian_ at that.

No, this was too depressing.  He couldn’t do this after all.  He left the open crate sitting on a cleared desk and left, but not before running into Princess Chang and his replacement in the hallway.

“Oh!” the princess squeaked.  She bowed before him, as did the young man she was with.  “Mai-sama, how are you today?”

He wanted to kick her and throw the pair of them off his balcony, as if the cheering crowd from earlier were like rabid lions and their bodies would nourish the beasts.  Instead he gave her a small smile and responded, “I’m well, Princess.  I believe we’re all stressed out however.”

“Mai-sama?  We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet,” the new Dragon smiled.  “My name is Alphonse Elric.  Ling says he’s going to appoint me to be his Dragon, but I’m not sure I can fill your shoes.”

That struck him.  He was expecting a egotistical brat, not a humble young man.  And how did he become fluent in Xingese so quickly?  “Well,” he began, his surprise apparent in his voice.  “Certainly the Young Lord picked you for a reason.  I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“If you have the time, I’d love to talk with you and get a feel for what exactly I’ll be doing.  After all, we don’t have a position like this where I come from, and I would like some advice from someone who’s been doing it for a long time.”

When Renchen was small, he had no ability with reading _ki_ and the like.  He wasn’t any good at alkahestry either, so he couldn’t tell if the boy was putting him on or being sincere.  But something about how the Princess looked at him, and the honesty written all over his young, pale face…  He felt like maybe Ling made the right choice after all.  And Mai himself was so tired and just ready to do nothing for a few years…  Perhaps he’d been looking at this wrong all the while.

He nodded.  “Of course.  I don’t have much time- the Prince wants me out of my office before you take the title.  So I’ve been trying to summon the energy to gather my things.  Come, let me show you where most of your days and many nights will be.”

The three of them went back to his office, and he heard the boy gasp in surprise.  “This room is enormous!” he breathed.  “An office back home is much smaller than this.”

“It’s true, I couldn’t believe how small the rooms were there,” the Princess confirmed.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said with a smile.  “Wait until you see your quarters, Elric-san.”  He was genuinely delighted with his enthusiasm, it made him think back to a time when he’d just begun and was just as eager to begin.  And then nearly forty years came and went and the position became stagnant for him.

“Al-sama,” the young Princess interrupted, “I’m sorry to rush you, but we are expected at the armory so you can be fitted for your armor.”  Then she smiled as she touched his arm, quite familiarly.  “I never imagined you’d be trying to get back into armor again.”

The young man laughed.  “Yes, I can see the irony in that!”  He turned back to him and smiled warmly.  “Thank you so much for taking a moment to show me around, Mai-sama!  May I come back later and talk with you some more?”

Mai nodded.  “Of course.  I expect I’ll be here most of the day.”  He gestured to the crate on his desk.  “That box isn’t going to fill itself unfortunately.”

The two of them bowed before hurrying off and Renchen wondered why he’d been in armor already.  He knew the Chang girl had been in Amestris over two years ago, which should’ve put the boy at around fourteen or fifteen years old…  Is that why Yao had chosen him?  Because he was an amazing warrior?  It was something he’d have to remember to ask about later.  He looked down at the messy desk and sighed.  He really was going to have to do this himself it seemed.

“Soonest begun is soonest done,” he reminded himself as he took off his outermost robe and draped it across the back of his chair.  He began picking up items that held many memories for him and putting them carefully into the crate.  He wondered absently what he’d find sitting in here in a year.  Then he wondered what his own life would be like in a year as he went about his work, not thinking about Alphonse Elric at all.  


* * *

He’d written his speech.  He’d been fitted for his Imperial crown and he tried on his luxuriant coronation robes.  His nails and hair had been trimmed and oiled and he’d chosen the tattoo design that would be placed on his back by the temple priestesses tomorrow in the purification ceremony- a phoenix rising from a water lily under the sun, a piece symbolizing his success stemming from his father under the symbol of Ong-Xu.  He’d eaten a huge meal of cleansing foods said to spiritually prepare him for the auspicious day, and while he was supposed to be resting and meditating, he was instead rolling passionately with Lan Fan in their bed.

They’d grown a lot over the years they’d been living together.  Lan Fan had no trouble calling him by his name anymore or naming her desires in their bedroom.  They were capable now of being more playful and less serious than when they’d first begun, and their skills as lovers had definitely improved- as evidenced by Ling’s labored breathing and pleas for more of his Lady’s fluid movements atop his hips.

“Hnn, yes, like that!” he cried softly.  His hands toyed with her hair, long and glossy in the dim light and bouncing with her motions.  “Gods, just like that…”

She moaned quietly at his encouraging.  She turned to look at him over her shoulder, then reached back to cup his cheek.  “Qing-ai-de… “ she breathed, then her eyes fluttered shut and her insides began to ripple around him as her rhythm faltered.

He kissed her trembling palm and squeezed her hips as he took over, thrusting slow and deep into her as she peaked.  “You’re amazing, Lan-chan,” he growled.

“No, it’s you…” she gasped as she came down from the heights of ecstasy.  She changed her position so she was facing him, and he took immediate advantage of the opportunity to kiss her.  He pulled her down to lie on his chest before entering her once more.  She whimpered blissfully at his return, her hands gently holding his face.  “Your turn,” she murmured between kisses.  “Fill me up.”

He guided her hands to the simple headboard, angling her so her breasts hung near his mouth.  He latched onto a nipple as he thrust hard and fast into her body, then as quickly as he began, he opened his mouth and grunted, “I love you, Lan Fan!”  He pulsed inside of her, erupting as her voice encouraged his release.   He eased Lan Fan away from the bed frame and had her sit more comfortably on his hips as he caught his breath, his wilting flesh encased and sheathed in her warmth.

“Tomorrow is the day it all begins,” he panted.  “At last, everything I’ve ever dreamed of will come true.”

“And not a moment too soon,” she agreed with a soft smile.  “You will make your father so proud.”

“Or incredibly angry, when he finds out I plan to unite the clans and create a dynasty.  If he wakes up, that is.”  He looked away from her.  “I would rather him wake up than for me to take over this way.  It feels like I’m cheating somehow.”  He wrapped his arms around her  as she lay down his chest.  “I know, I’m over-thinking again, right?”

“Yes,” she answered with a soft kiss.  “Wu-san knows you will be a good ruler, and I do not think he would be disappointed in your ascent to power.  You have held on a long time in hopes he will wake up.  I think he knows you are doing your best to be respectful in how you take power.  Hong would have grabbed it before nightfall the day he first fell ill.”

Ling nodded.  She was right.  Maybe he was just having a little stage fright about the whole thing.  His fingers combed her hair as she snuggled into the muscles of his chest.  “I want you to stop drinking the carrot seed tea,” he murmured.  “I’ll need an heir as soon as possible.”

He felt her stiffen a bit.  “Are you sure we should not wait until we have at least captured Hong?”

He thought for a moment.  If Hong knew he was expecting a child- with _any_ of the concubines or with Lan Fan- how far would he go to hurt the mother or the child, or both?  And likely, Lan Fan had already given this lots of thought if she was this unsettled about it.  Her _ki_ vibrated nervously as she waited for his answer.

“Maybe you’re right.  But we will catch him soon.  I’ll have an entire army at my command and we’ll get him.  And then…”

“A baby,” she whispered.

He smiled.  “The first of many.”

“I’d like that,” she replied sleepily.  “Maybe seven altogether.”

“Twelve.”

“Twenty,” she countered, her insides squeezing the flaccid organ inside her.

“Maybe I should just keep you pregnant always,” he said playfully as he rolled her to her back and began to pepper her neck with wet kisses.  “Never a break in between,” he teased,  “just one child after another until your blood stops coming.”  He was awakening again.  He gave an experimental push to see just how hard he’d become and Lan Fan whimpered blissfully.

“You should sleep!  You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow!” she keened as he began again.

“Who could sleep with such a beautiful woman in the bed anyways?  And all this excitement- no, I will have you until I collapse!”  He forced a yelp of ecstasy from her lips and concentrated on bringing them both to pieces again, all while the crowds beyond the palace walls celebrated into the night.  Finally, after the moon had passed into the trees, their passions were slaked at last and they slept deeply in their messy bed.

The next morning, much too early for Ling’s liking, he was being roused by Pako, a small monkey that belonged to one of the servant girls.  Pako was commissioned for wake up duty because unlike Xiao Mei, Pako was more animal like in his communications.  Whatever he saw in the Prince’s bed chamber wasn’t going to end up in the rumor mill by breakfast.  Also it gave he and Lan Fan the freedom to live in their house in as little clothing as they pleased without worry that someone had seen them.

Ling yawned, gave the monkey a little snack as thanks, and watched the animal scurry back out the door.  He turned to look at his Lan-chan, who was sprawled out on her stomach, arms and legs akimbo, and her bare back rising and falling gently with her breath.  He bent over and kissed her there, waking her.

“I’ll be leaving in a little bit.”

She opened her eyes, then rolled over, careful to keep the automail arm from snagging the sheets.  She smiled at him, her breasts and belly pink with sleep.  “I will miss you.”

“I know.  I’ll miss you too, Lan-chan.  But when I return, I’ll be Emperor.”  He kissed her deeply.  “Please don’t forget to pray at Wu-san’s bedside in my place.”

“Of course.  I will see you soon, qing-ai-de.  Have a safe journey.”

He told her to go back to sleep before wandering into his dressing room and pulling out the appropriate attire.  Within half an hour he was in the palace, a young woman pulling his hair into a simple braided tail, and before he could even smell breakfast in the kitchens, he was being taken to the stables and loaded into a small yet very ornate carriage drawn by a single white horse.

Shang-Po was laid out so that the palace- dominating and elegant- stood at the southern end of the walled city.  The temple was situated at the northern end.  It was sprawling and organic and had a separate wall of its own, as if it were a separate city.  A marble minaret topped with a gold dome stood in the middle of a rock garden maze and towered over most everything, standing over seven stories high.  Inside the tower was a gigantic solid gold statue of Ong-Xu, the God of Gods, and only the high priestess and the Emperor, the direct descendant of Ong-Xu, were permitted inside.  The fact that Emperor Wu had brought Hong Chen inside was blasphemous, and Huilang had spent a week cleansing his foul _ki_ from the building and making altars of repentance in hopes of forgiveness.

When Ling arrived, the priestesses greeted him at the gates.  The crowds were gathered as closely as possible to get a glimpse of him, and at least fifty guards were on hand just for this part of the ritual alone.  The women were not allowed to touch him, nor was he allowed to touch them.  A pair of them handed him a snow white rope to grasp as they led him through the gates.  After they were shut and locked, they walked the maze path to the shrine house that sat in front of the temple.

The shrine house was a modest wooden building, not much different from the little home he lived in out in the royal garden with Lan Fan.  It was nothing more than one large room with storage chests lining the back half of the walls and an altar with golden relics, priceless heirlooms and trinkets.  In the middle of the room was a pallet, in front of that were three monks and the materials for the tattooing.  He was offered sacred wine to drink for the pain, but he refused it, as was expected of him.  The priestesses used jade rods to undress Ling with, rods that were older than the palace, and once his royal shirt lie on the pallet, the monks had him verify the design and then asked him to lie down on his stomach.

It took hours to complete.  It was all done by hand and was nearly as painful as Greed’s hostile takeover of his body.  They had to stop only once so he could relieve his bladder, but when it was finished, he was quite impressed with the work.  The phoenix of his clan would now be forever upon his back- a right that only the Emperor could claim.  The monks sealed the skin of his back in a thick salve and the priestesses led him from the shrine house to the sulphur springs.

There was more undressing with the jade rods, and Ling was impressed with how they’d perfected the act of it.  The water was warm and soothing after having been tortured for nearly the whole day.  He soaked in the waters, the sulphur pungent but not all that unpleasant with the addition of sacred oils meant to purify his body and spirit.  After about an hour, he was being summoned from the springs by a young woman who would not look at him in his nude state, holding a towel opened up for him.  Once dried and salve reapplied to his tattoo, a single robe of white silk was slipped onto his shoulders and Huilang greeted him at the doors to the temple itself.

“It is with great honor that I welcome you into the Temple of Ong-Xu, our God of Gods, the direct ancestor to you and your line,” she said as she bowed low before him.  “Please follow me inside.”

Ling smiled at her and nodded.  He stepped carefully behind her, copying her movements as she bowed before the enormous statue, then listened as the door closed and locked behind them.  It was quiet and dark in the chamber.  The sound of the torches filled the room and the scent of herbs, salt, and incense floated on the air.

“You must favor your mother, Young Lord,” Huilang said as she arranged the ritual items before her.  “You have your father’s smile, but nothing else.”

“Yes, mother and I have the same eyes and cheeks.  She is much shorter than me, however.  Some of father’s height must have come through as well.”  He crossed his legs and prepared to meditate, but his belly gave a loud gurgle of anger.  Ling chuckled and apologized.  “Sorry, I’m not accustomed to fasting I’m afraid.”

Huilang smiled and reached into her sleeve.  She pulled out a white sack filled with dried meat.  “This lamb was roasted and cured at the Sun festival.  As it pays tribute to Ong-Xu, it was blessed on the fires and blessed on the platters afterward.  When the priestesses dried it for storage it was blessed again, so I think you can eat this without offending Ong-Xu.”

Ling did his best not to gobble it up in one bite, instead saying a word of thanks over each bite, chewing it slowly and forcing himself to appreciate the time that had been put into making it, as well as the generosity and thoughtfulness of the woman who’d brought it to him.  When it was gone, he felt fuller and ready to open his heart and mind through meditation and prayer.

Huilang was a gentle leader.  One chanted prayer led to a quiet restful meditation, then back to a chanted prayer and to meditation again.  He had no sense of time in the closed space, no sense of anything other than the stress of the day rolling away like a boulder.  Even the pain in his stinging back seemed to fade away and he forgot about everything except for opening his soul to be able to receive the mantle of his station in the morning.  They sat for a long time in silence after a while, and finally Huilang spoke.

“I am glad I’ve gotten to know you, Young Lord.”

Ling opened his eyes and gazed back at her.  “And I am glad to have gotten to know you.”

She gave him a small smile.  “You are not at all who I expected to see becoming Emperor.  Your story of coming to be the Heir in Waiting is a lesson to me.  I regarded Hong as an omen.  I forgot that there are both good and bad omens.  And your kindness toward him, even though he’d done so much wrong…  I was humbled by your actions and words that day.  It’s a shame he doesn’t see that your sparing his life is a gift he should treasure.”

“When I catch him, I don’t know if I’ll be as lenient.  I can’t have a monster like that terrorizing the country.  I may have to put him to death, though that is the last thing I want to do.”  He wanted to ask for her opinion on merging the nation, but was afraid of how she would take it.  He was brave enough to ask her about Lan Fan however.  “Do you think it would be appropriate for me to take Lady Fan as my wife?  The Fu clan doesn’t even participate in the Challenge anymore, and it would negate a Yao candidate.”

She perked up at being asked such an important question, and Ling watched as a look of deep thought crossed her brow.  “Having been in love once myself, I certainly think you should keep her by your side if you can.  I’ve seen how happy she makes you, how happy you make each other.  To give her up or forsake her for fifty strange women…  But on the other hand, you must sire the players for the challenge.”  She sighed and tucked her knees under her chin as she stretched her back and arms.  “If there were a way to do away with the Challenge altogether…  That would be the best course of action.”

Ling’s jaw dropped.  “Do you really think there’s a way to do that?  I mean, yes it’s traditional, but look how many lives are lost because of it.  And I simply _cannot_ abandon Lan Fan.  I want her as my _only_ wife.”

“Without sounding rude to the God who watches us in this room,” she replied, glancing over her shoulder.  “When you are Emperor, your rule- good or bad- will be divine.  Whatever direction you take Xing in, it will be as the Gods have said.  If you abolish the Challenge, it will be Ong-Xu’s will working through you.”

Ling’s excitement over the subject was nearly tangible.  “And the people?  Won’t they revolt?”

Huilang bit her lip.  “If you tell them it’s a matter you’ve been thinking about for a long time, something you’ve prayed over and meditated on, I think you will not offend as many.”

Ling gave a sigh of relief and chuckled.  “You’re the first person in this country to not tell me I’m crazy!”

The woman smiled at him and replied, “Perhaps our friendship is also divine.  I am your spiritual advisor now.  I am a counselor and a confidante- anything said between you and I and Ong-Xu will remain there explicitly.”

He told her everything.  He told her his plan to unite the clans, to wire the nation for phone and telegraph and electricity, to build railroads and eventually one that would take them across the desert to Amestris, and a secondary one further north to Drachma.  He spoke of fleets of ships sailing out from the southwest on exploratory missions, talked about giving his Dragon his sister’s hand in marriage and inviting the Amestrians to open an embassy in Shang-Po.  When he was finished, it felt like an anvil was removed from his chest.

Huilang only answered, “I think you will be a great and benevolent Emperor.  And if you can win your people over when you begin to make these enormous changes, the entire country will be better for it.”  Just then, a big bell rang inside the chamber three times, signaling the doors were about to be unlocked.  “The day has finally come, My Lord.  Your reign as Emperor will begin this morning.”

“Thank you so much for everything.  Your confidence is a great help to my soul today.”

Her hands landed gently on his forearms.  “You have your father’s good heart, My Lord.  You have nothing to fear.”

The doors opened on them, gleaming bright sunbeams filling the darkened space.  A procession of bells and chimes awaited them as they emerged from the temple.  Ling was taken to the shrine house, stripped bare by his servant girls, doused in sacred oil on miniature mops, then his back had ointment applied to it once more.  They began to dress him in the seven layer coronation robes as musicians played songs that spoke of luck and prosperity and fertility.  His hair was meticulously combed and styled, an elaborate headpiece attached and at last he was given a golden staff, encrusted with rubies and topaz.  It was as tall as him and was meant as a scepter, though it was also a ceremonial weapon.  A sword with a pommel and hilt in the same bejeweled fashion was affixed to his waist, and once outside he slipped into new silk shoes.  Huilang joined him, in fresh robes and an oiled braid as well, and together they rode in the carriage through the masses of people, on their way to the Peony Palace steps, where she would declare him the true heir of Ong-Xu and Emperor of Xing.


	5. CHAPTER FOUR

The sun rose over Shang-Po to reveal a city that had been awake since before dawn.  Food vendors had been preparing and cooking since the wee hours of the morning, the travelling merchants had been perfecting the presentation of their goods since before yesterday, and there was a sense of excitement in the air as revelers partied into the night, many of them not even bothering to sleep.  Even the guards had been tripled and on patrol since the night before.  The entirety of the royal guard would be on duty during the roughly five hour ceremony.  The number of people within Shang-Po had swelled overnight to over five hundred thousand.  There was another five thousand outside the city walls, close enough to hear announcements over the loud speaker system, but out of the mass of people inside.  The latrines were strained to capacity, the food vendors nearly out of items to eat, the bars out of liquor and the inns bursting at the seams.  
  
Nui, Niao, Bei and Nishi had bedded down in hammocks hung high in a tree, but Niao was up first, morning sickness  beckoning her to awareness.  The sound of her upheaval woke the others and Nui was attending to her when they heard the crowds begin to cheer.  Looking out across the city from their vantage point, she could see the small gold carriage, flying a phoenix banner and carrying the new Emperor and the High Priestess to the Peony Palace steps, where she would declare him the true son of Ong-Xu and ruler of Xing.  
  
Nui smiled as the cheering of the crowd grew to a roar.  “Shi-Hong is smiling today.  His life was not lost in vain.”  
  
“Shi-Hong?” Nishi asked.  
  
“Prince Yao’s retainer who travelled to Amestris with him.  He died fighting to protect Ling-sama, and today I know he’s smiling.”   
  
The guards had surrounded the carriage in a tight oval and ensured there was room for the horse to carry the new Emperor to the palace steps.  It took nearly an hour for them to make it to their destination, despite it being a short distance of usually about fifteen minutes.  Once safely behind a double line of soldiers, the carriage was drawn right up to the palace steps.  The crowd was cheering and some were singing the national anthem.  
  
The four assassins hanging in the tree were all watching through spyglasses as the new Emperor climbed a heavily decorated flight of stairs to the dais where most of the ceremony would take place.  His staff and sword awaited him at the top of the palace steps, and he would take them at the end, when Huilang had given him all the rights and privileges to his station.  
  
Niao settled into her husband’s arms as they prepared to stretch out their senses to monitor the crowd.  “Do you really think Hong would be so stupid as to try something now?” she asked as she munched on ginger wafers.  
  
Nui hummed in thought.  “Not sure.  It will either be as a single stealthy assassin or as an army, and we haven’t seen an army yet.  Best to keep our senses on alert.”  
  
“We should spread out,” she suggested.  
  
“Oto, Bawa, and Maki have the rest of the perimeter on this side, we’re fine for now.  If things start getting suspicious we might, “ he said as he tightened his arms around her.  “But for now, we’re fine where we are.  Let’s watch Ling-sama claim the throne.”

* * *

The crowd began to calm down a little as the speakers down in the city crackled to life.  Huilang gave the microphone a test, then meekly asked the crowd to quiet.  Two elegantly dressed men carried an ancient scroll case to an ornate stand and spread it open.

“Who are they?” Al asked Mei in a low voice.

“Chuo Mosu and Chu Pa-Tuo,” she replied.  “Ministers of Bloodlines and Imperial Records.”

He chuckled.  “Wonder if they realize the Amestrian they denied honorary nobility status to and the Amestrian who will be Dragon tomorrow are the same person!”

The two men held the scroll’s end cases carefully as Huilang stepped up to the stand to read from it.  “The God of Gods, Ong-Xu,  sat feasting on a watermelon after creating the other Gods, the world, and all the beasts that filled it.  But he wanted something more to fill his perfect creation, so he made the people of Xing from the seeds of the watermelon, with hair as black as the seeds themselves.  He gave them skin the color of gold, eyes as dark as the night sky, and the gift of free will.  When he saw that they were much more intelligent than the beasts and fishes he’d made, he decided that he would choose one of them to rule over everything.  He wanted to choose the smartest, strongest, and kindest of them all, but he found that the smartest was not also the strongest, and that the strongest was not also the kindest, and that no one person could possibly be all three at once.  It was then that he created the Challenge, by placing a sword made of star dust on a hidden mountain and calling all the people to go and claim it, for whoever could find the mountain it rested in would surely be the smartest, whoever could scale the mountain would surely be the strongest, and whoever could make it there without being chased by an angry mob must surely be the kindest of them all.”

Four priestesses brought a glass case forward.  Alphonse watched as the High Priestess opened it carefully and pulled out a gleaming sword, holding it with a wide silk ribbon as she turned to display it to the crowd.  “This is the sword that the first Emperor pulled from the rock and snow at the top of Jiantsing Mountain, and it is from there our entire nation has formed.”

Al leaned over toward Mei and said quietly in Amestrian with a smirk, “Watermelon seeds?  Really?”  She shushed him and he turned back to the dais.

The two men helped roll the scroll so the High Priestess could read more to the crowd.  She bowed toward the scroll, then read, “Ming-Shu, the Exalted First Divine Emperor of Xing, Mortal owner of the Immortal Blade, is the only Xingese person to have ever heard the word of Ong-Xu first hand.  He wrote the word of the God of Gods on the Stone Cipher with the tip of the celestial sword.  The holy words engraved there command Ming-Shu to divide the country into one hundred families, to father a child by a wife from every family, and to create a challenge of his own.  From then on, the Emperor’s Challenge has chosen every heir apart from three successions in which a winner did not present itself.  It is said that the Gods gamble on who will win, though Ong-Xu has the final say.  This day, we will add Prince Yao Ling’s name to the canon and recognize his right to the Empire of Xing.”

The crowd roared and Al’s heart raced.  He could feel the joy and excitement in the air.  It wasn’t lost on him how relieved they were that Hong was not the one.  He found it hard to believe that a crowd this uproarious and supportive now could turn on Ling once they knew of his plans to unite Xing.

Huilang sipped at some water from an exquisite royal chalice, and then read a very long name and title.  Al let his curiosity flow through his soul link with Mei.  She whispered in his ear, “This will be the longest part of it all.  She’s reading the names and titles of every Emperor Xing has ever had.”

“What?”  That didn’t make any sense- there had been three hundred and sixty five Emperors.  This was going to take _all_ day.  “And we just sit here?  The whole time?”

Mei pointed to the army of priestesses floating around the crowd.  “They’re blessing everyone in attendance, four at a time.   They should get everyone.  And yes, we have to stay the whole time…” she trailed off.

“Why?” he asked, listening as she read the fourth Emperor’s name.

“We’re expected to.  Your reason should be obvious, Dragon, and even if I didn’t get the throne, I am a well known supporter of Ling’s and must show my face as the names are recited.”

He smiled at her, adjusting his position.  “Then let’s make the best of it.”  He took her hand in his, not caring who saw at the moment.  It had been days since they’d had any physical contact.  Surely holding her hand a moment was permissible.

“His Celestial Highness, Emperor Fi-Jung of the Yang clan, fifth divine ruler of the Empire of Xing, direct descendant of the first son of Ong-Xu and blessed by the Gods.”

Al sighed.  “It’s going to be a very long day, isn’t it?”  He couldn’t help but grin as Mei nodded.  “At least the company’s good.”  


* * *

When Jian finally arrived to the Palace perimeter, he made sure to pull his _ki_ in tightly.  He slipped into the crowds, unnoticed by most.  Boredom had set in as the crowd hung on for the end of the Imperial Litany. The High Priestess was on the one hundred and ninety second Emperor and many had stopped listening at this point.  Food was being passed around while the other priestess continued to work through the crowd.

He noted the large number of soldiers out in force in the streets and pulled his _ki_ in even tighter.  As nonchalantly as possible, he got as close as he could to the palace steps.  He saw the Chang princess in all her silken glory.  Beside her was the Amestrian, the ‘Golden Dragon’ as he was being called in the streets.  Jian looked him over with a critical eye.  Athletic build, tall and trim, looked like he could hold his own in a fist fight, but nothing like the fabled warrior he’d been expecting.

Though his own _ki_ was reigned in, theirs was not.  Jian furrowed his brow, puzzled at the feeling he was getting from their energy signatures.  It was as if the two of them were on par with a set of twins, as far their _ki_ was concerned.  It was blended perfectly, two halves making a perfect whole.  He wondered what happened to bond them so well together, but his attention was soon drawn away from them.

Lady Fan, or as Hong called her, “the Fu clan whore”- was not sitting half asleep on a fluffy cushion.  Her eyes were sharp as daggers and scanning the crowd relentlessly.  Her own _ki_ couldn’t be felt, likely pulling in tight as Jian was.  He almost didn’t notice the kunai hidden in her fist until the sun caught the edge just right and allowed him a glittering glimpse of it.  If she was armed and anxious, any attack upon her lover would be fiercely retaliated and avenged.  The prince’s mother wasn’t worth noting, and the current Dragon looked too drunk to be too much trouble.  He wandered back into the crowds toward the food stalls.

Finding food was hard.  Most of them had sold out earlier in the day or even as early as last night.  But he found some dumplings at last and joked with some patrons about the _next_ Emperor being chosen before the end of the emperors list had been read.  Though the conversation was light, he was wondering all the while how he was going to carry out the orders he’d been given.  At first, he was supposed to just go and scout the city out, see what changes had been made since Hong’s last day there, see what the new Dragon looked like and size him up.  Then Hong had changed his mind and told him to do whatever he could to end the ceremony.  But with the place crawling with soldiers and Yao’s personal assassin having a front seat, there was nothing he could do unless he was invisible.  And despite the best medicines and potions available stolen from the northeast, there was nothing that could do that.  Bombs would be too slow, poison darts couldn’t go the distance needed, rushing the steps was suicide with this many guards around.  The best he could do would be to kill the woman reading the long list of names-

“Yeah…” he whispered to himself.  The Yao brat wasn’t close enough for him to eviscerate, not when thirty men in battle armor would be on you like stink on shit in under a second.  But the High Priestess stood very close to the crowd.  One good, quick leap and he could have her throat cut and bleeding out onto the sacred scroll before he was obliterated himself.  His attack could start the chain reaction that would carry Hong back to Shang-Po, this time in victory.

“Can I get some more?” he asked the old woman working the booth.  Another serving found its way into his hands, and by the time the High Priestess was on the three hundred and fourteenth Emperor of Xing, Jian was on the move, ready to face his death.  


* * *

Mai dozed on his pallet, an arm rest keeping him upright.  His dreams were peaceful at last though- the week of packing and his short meetings with the new Dragon had seemed to ease his spirit and he was alright with leaving his position in the young man’s hands.  His personal servant roused him at the three hundred and fiftieth name.   Only about ten minutes left to go now.

The High Priestess was beginning to lose her voice, and she looked physically tired from standing the entire time.  He knew Prince Yao had made plans to have her taken to the royal bath afterward for a massage and relaxing soak.  She paused to take a drink of hot tea and to suck lightly on a lemon, then she continued with her reading of the Celestial Scroll.

“His Celestial Highness, Emperor Hsin of the Tsu clan, the three hundred and fifty first divine ruler of the Empire-”

A black shadow moved from the crowd in front of him, leaping up onto the dais, racing just past the guards, and he took several of Lady Fan’s kunai in the ribs as he leaped over the encrusted podium and slashed at the High Priestess’ throat.  The crowd gasped seemingly in unison, and then a shriek rang out when blood splattered over her outstretched silken arm.

He sprang into action, tackling the attacker just behind the woman, who was bleeding near her neck and had ruined her white robes.  He jerked the man’s arm behind his back and held it just at the breaking point, daring him to move.

“You got balls, but no brains,” he panted.

The man said nothing, didn’t struggle or protest his capture.  The soldiers secured him and one of them helped Mai to his feet.  He looked over his shoulder to find the princess healing the High Priestess’ wound with alkahestry.  He saw his replacement standing behind Princess Chang, watching closely over her shoulder.  He walked over to see if he could do anything to help.

“He missed her artery,” Elric-san said with relief.  “It’s not even very deep.  Lady Fan’s kunai threw him off just enough, otherwise she’d be a goner.”

Yao-sama and Lady Fan were kneeled beside her, then they moved when some other priestesses arrived to help.  After a prayer, they pulled her to sit up, and they offered her more tea and some wine to help dull her senses.  The attacker was long gone from the scene, likely in the dungeon being beaten.

“I think they’re going to have one of the other women continue on her behalf,” Elric-san said.

Mai nodded.  He watched as the priestesses and Chang Mei helped Huilang to her feet.

“Please be careful, Priestess,” the princess warned.  “I don’t think you should continue the reading-”

“With all due respect, princess,” she murmured, “please move out of my way.”

Chang-san gave her a worried look, but did move out of the way.  They all watched as the woman walked slowly back to the podium and jerked the microphone from the stand.

“If you want to know the names of the other Emperors, you can go to any state office and ask to see the royal names,” she said in a shaky voice.  “It is apparent to me that Hong Chen has sent someone to keep Yao-sama from the throne, so I’m going to skip the last thirteen names, though it is not out of disrespect that I do so.”  She turned to the prince, who was watching very carefully.  “It is with great certainty, a pure heart and clear mind that I proclaim on this day, the third day of the sixth week of the Mountain month in 9231 of the Imperial Calendar, also on the second of April in the year 1917, that Emperor Wu’s twelfth son, Prince Ling of the Yao clan, is hereby proclaimed the three hundred and sixty fifth Emperor of Xing, direct descendant of Ong-Xu, and blessed by the gods!”

Upon her declaration, Chuo Mosu and Chu Pa-Tuo immediately stamped the royal scroll where Ling’s name had been written out, the lesser priestesses all shouted a prayer from wherever they stood, and the crowd echoed that short prayer.

It was official.  Yao-sama was now Emperor Ling.

Mai had never been so relieved.  


* * *

Ling immediately ordered guards to his father’s chambers to bolster the security there.  He saw to his mother’s safety, then he asked Huilang to go with the physicians to be examined.  Once he was sure everyone was alright, he took the Imperial Staff and his custom forged blade and stood at the podium.  The crowd’s cheering was deafening and it took a bit of work to quiet them.

“The high priestess will live and her attacker will be punished.  I am making it my personal quest to hunt down Hong Chen and bring him to answer for his actions.  Xing has suffered with him long enough, perhaps longer than necessary because of my own mercy.  I will not allow him to keep my people in his grip of fear any longer!”  He was livid that Hong had the audacity to order such an assassination in front of the very people he was trying to win over.

“I do not want anyone to risk their lives to stop him.  But if you can help us track him down, we can be rid of him sooner rather than later.  I will begin immediately to have Xing wired for telephone and telegraph service, nationwide and not just in certain cities.  Electricity and rail travel will follow soon after.  For far too long, Xing has sat mired in ancient ways.  If we are to catch Hong, we must have the best communications technologies available.  I will not rest until we find him and I’m sure all of Xing is safe from his madness!”  The crowd went wild and Ling drew and held his sword over his head.  “Tell Hong Chen that if he wants the throne of Xing, he will have to come and take it from me!”

He sheathed it and turned away from the cheering masses, taking Lan Fan into his arms and kissing her tenderly in front of everyone.  “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine, My Lord.”

His tiny mother looked visibly shaken.  He went to her side and held her.  “Ma-ma, are you alright?”

She shuddered in his arms.  “I want you to be safe, Ah-Ling…  At what cost have you claimed your throne?”

He hushed her and asked the physician to take her to the southern guest chambers and give her something to help her rest.  Then he had guards escort Xi-Fei , Loka, and Keiji in to be with her.  He ordered food be sent to them and asked that they not be disturbed if at all possible.

He then waved Alphonse and Mei over.  “I want all of us in the palace proper until further notice.  I’m going to keep the southern unit here and send the rest of the additional troops home.  I’m tempted to order the people to go home so they can be safe in their own villages.”

“Do you think they will go willingly?” Al asked.  “Not to sound arrogant, but many have also come to see the Amestrian made Dragon. They might not want to leave until then.”

Ling nodded, thinking to himself a moment.  Then he strode back to the podium.  He addressed his people once more, saying that in the interest of safety and security, the Dragon would be presented in three hours.  “Go and eat, stretch your legs, then return for the much shorter ceremony.”  With that he waved and spun on his heel, grabbing Lan Fan by her automail hand as he passed.

A feast had been prepared, one for those on the dais and surrounding troops while other foods were passed around the crowd.  Mai agreed to stay out on the dais with his family and the guards while Ling retreated to a private dining room.  It was customary to celebrate with the people gathered around him, but Ling broke with tradition in favor of safety.  The attack had made him jumpy to say the least, and he just wanted a moment to unwind before hurriedly naming Alphonse his Dragon and second in command.  To be quite honest, he wasn’t anywhere near hungry.  His belly was full of adrenaline and the only thing he hungered for was Hong’s head on a platter.

He told Al and Mei to wait for him there while he quickly went to see about his father.  Six guards stood outside the doorway, while inside were Jerso, Zampano, and half a legion of patrolmen.  Lan Fan waited outside as he went to kneel by his father’s bed.

“Anything happen here?” he asked the Amestrians as he knelt beside his father.

“Not a thing, your highness,” Zampano answered.  “Not even a sigh from your father’s mouth.”

Ling took a deep breath and nodded.  “Good.  I’m glad he’s in good hands.”

“My Lord,” one of the patrolmen began.  “Should we move your divine father to a safer location?”

Ling took his father’s hand and closed his eyes.  “No.  I want Huilang moved to his side and you can protect them both.”  He said a prayer before kissing his father’s fingers and getting to his feet.  “I’m cutting the festivities short and naming Alphonse Dragon in a few hours.  Once this is all over, we’ll restructure the guards and figure out where to go from there.  Until then, hold your positions.  I’ll send some food down.  Eat in shifts, let the Amestrians eat first.  I’ll be back later with relief.”

When he returned, he saw Lan Fan’s face was filled with concern and he smiled at her.  “Father’s safe and sound.  And I’m fine, you can relax,” he said calmly as they returned to the dining room.

“I know you better than that, My Lord.”

He reached for her hand and squeezed it.  “I know.”

They were quiet as they breezed through the passageways.  The dining table had been set and served, Al and Mei sitting near each other and waiting patiently.  Ling commanded them to dig in and watched as everyone sort of picked at their food, their thoughts elsewhere, their stomachs seemingly as knotted up as his own.  This wouldn’t do- _at all._

“Please, enjoy the meal.  I’ll be back shortly.”

He left in a flurry of silk and strode down to the garrison near the prison.  There were half a dozen men there, most everyone else out in the city.  These were the commanders, giving orders to their subordinates who would come in from the masses out in the city and dole out the orders to those lower in rank.  They all stood immediately at the Emperor’s presence.

Ling spoke firmly, “As soon as the Dragon is escorted to the top of the steps, I want the soldiers to begin clearing the city.”

His Forward Captain gaped.  “My Lord, the people have come from many miles away to see the festivities of the entire coronation week!  There’s still the concubines and the fireworks show-”

“And Hong could bomb Shang-Po and kill nearly everyone.  I won’t have my subjects endangered for the sake of a traditional fireworks display.”  He stood in front of the Captain.  “These people will be safer at home.  If you cannot order my soldiers to clear the city, I will find someone who can.  Are we clear?”

The man straightened and answered, “Yes, My Lord!  It will be done as you say!”

“Very well, then.  My biggest concern is that these people make it home safely.  Please be sure to set them on the right paths to get them there.  In the meantime, send scouts along the main roads.  Tell them to find the concubine caravans and tell them to turn around.”

“Your Highness!?”

“It is too dangerous for them to be in the capitol.  I will send word when I feel it is safe to come.  Until then, those young ladies should be home with their parents where they’ll be safe.  I can’t allow Hong to hurt any more people, and if he’s got his eyes set on this throne, he’ll come here to get it eventually.  No use having non-essential people in the city.”

He turned and walked toward the door, the men whispering among each other.  “You have the option of leaving now if you feel I’m too eccentric.  I won’t fault you for feeling that way.  But you must believe that my orders are to save the lives of my people while I organize the soldiers to hunt down Hong Chen.  Traditions may be broken in order to keep Xing safe.”

“Ah!  My Lord!” a second Captain cried out.  “What should we do with the assassin?”

Ling paused and thought for a moment.  He didn’t want to have him executed, yet he didn’t want the man to be a threat later on, as his brother now was…

Finally he answered.  “Beat him.  Twenty strokes with a soaked cane.  Find the strongest man to do it, but be sure you don’t kill him.  No food or water for an entire day afterward.  Tell him if he works with the interrogators that he may find mercy.  If he is difficult though…  We’ll have to wait and see.”

“As you wish, My Lord,” the man bowed.

“Thank you for your cooperation in this difficult time,” Ling said earnestly.  “Hopefully we won’t be in chaos for very long and I can handle Hong as I should have from the beginning.”  He turned to leave and said a silent prayer to Ong-Xu as he made his way back to the dining room to collect his Dragon.

Alphonse had been taken by a servant girl to be properly dressed for the occasion, and Ling requested that they bring the ceremonial armor up from their respective quarters.  “I want the entire set of weaponry as well,” he told the servant.  A young boy poured him a glass of wine and he seemed to gulp it down.

“My Lord,” Lan Fan said gently.  “You should not drink so much so fast.”

“It’s just to take the edge off,” he replied, refusing a refill of the sweet wine.  “I ordered the soldiers to the clear the city immediately afterward.  They will be safer at home than they will be here.”  His eyes turned toward her.  “I also ordered several scout to send the concubines back home.”

No one said anything, but he was aware of the tension in the room suddenly rising.  The servants all shared a worried look, Lan Fan herself seemed to stiffen on her silken cushion and Mei’s eyes widened.

“I want to make sure my people are safe, and that means sending _everyone_ home.”

“Your Celestial Highness?” a woman’s voice interrupted.  “We’ve brought the armor you requested.”

He stood, watching as Al entered the room behind the others, carrying Ling’s dress armor.  He bore a stamped leather and steel breastplate that would be strapped over the silk of his five robes, arm guards that would his sleeves held back, and the tails of his robes would be tucked into fine leather pantaloons meant for horseback riding.

Al himself had been transformed into a glorious Xingese warrior with his ceremonial armor.  His breastplate was stamped and painted, he wore molded leather pauldrons in the shape of snarling dragons with brilliant gold enameled eyes.  They were lined with steel cops and attached to the breastplate with a link of seamless forged chain.  A layered leather girdle wrapped around his waist, stamped and painted and gathered in the front with a solid gold buckled forged to look like another dragon, this one bearing the imperial seal in its forehead.  Steel arm guards were polished to a mirror shine, and boots with steel panels protected his legs.

“How do I look, Your Highness?” he asked with a grin.

Ling clapped his friend on the shoulder.  “Like the Golden Dragon I’ve  been hearing so much about.”  He took the armor and let the dressing servants strap him into his exquisite gear.  He adjusted his sword, putting the sheath over one shoulder and across his chest as he’d been taught to by old man Fu.  He noticed Al’s sword hung at his left hip, and his hand rested on the pommel as if he’d owned it all his life.   “Are you ready to become a Xingese citizen?”

Al’s smile was easy and genuine.  “Yes, My Lord.”

He nodded.  “Let’s go.”  He held his hand out and helped Lady Fan to her feet.  “My dear, will you please accompany Mei?  I promise not to take all night naming him Dragon, but it will still be a moment before he can return to her side.”

Lan Fan smiled.  “As you command, My Lord”.  He kissed her quickly, then led the way out of the room and down to the armory as Mei and Lan Fan exited to the palace steps where Ling’s mother sat with Mai and his wife.

The armory had an exit that spilled out onto either side of the Peony Palace steps.  It was designed so that two rows of soldiers could exit the palace at the same time as the Emperor and be on the ground in time to surround him in safety, should he decide to roam the streets of Shang-Po or publically board his carriage.  For the ceremony of Al’s Dragon Naming ceremony, Ling would exit the right side and Al the left, meeting in the middle in front of the first step of the long staircase.  As the ceremonial rite progressed, Al would be able to ascend the steps one vow at a time.  But Ling was anxious to clear the city, so when he took the microphone the priestess offered, he disregarded tradition and ceremony.

“Today I present to the Xingese people an Amestrian who desires to serve the Xingese people in the highest capacity.  And because of the threat that still looms in our city, I am going to shorten the ceremony that will take him from foreigner to Dragon.”  The crowd seemed confused, but looked on as he drew his ruby and topaz covered sword and sliced his palm.  Ling held his golden gaze as he yelled, “Elric Alphonse of Resembool, Amestris!  It is my duty to guard and protect the Empire of Xing!  I ask you this day to stand beside me as second in command to the throne of Xing!  I ask you to lead my armies!  I ask you to be my advisor and my comrade in all things concerning our nation!  Will you lay down your life for my people?  Will you forsake Amestris to guard Xing?”

Al drew his sword and sliced his palm open and shouted, “Yes, My Lord!”

They clasped hands and Ling roared, “I call upon the God of Gods, Ong-Xu, to bless this declaration!  I have chosen the best person in all of Xing- of all the _world_ \- to be the guardian of Xing’s mighty army!”  He turned and released Al’s hand, then led them up the steps.  At the top, he decreed, “We are bound by my Imperial blood!  What I wish, the Golden Dragon shall carry out!  We are one and the same!”

The crowd cheered, some chanting “Gold-en Drag-on!”  Some children waved banners with dancing dragons on them shouting out for ‘Elric-san!’  Ling quieted the crowd and turned to Alphonse.

“My Dragon, as a sign of your allegiance, I am leaving the matter of the High Priestess’ assassin in your hands.  What should we do with him?”  Ling had not discussed what he’d spoken to the Forward Captain about when he went to the garrison in the bottom of the palace.  He hoped their decisions would be similar.

Al spoke confidently to the crowd.  “I’m sure he’s already been beaten by the guards.  Deny him food and water until he tells us where Hong and his men are.  If the information he gives leads to the capture of our enemy, perhaps his life could be spared, My Lord.”

Thank goodness.  Ling beamed at him.  “My Dragon has spoken as I would have.  Your answer pleases me greatly.  As a sign of my faith, I present my Chang sister to you as a bride.”  Al’s face lit up, even as his cheeks reddened, and Mei shrieked with joy behind him.  “As for all of our loyal subjects who have come to share this day with us, I’m afraid I must insist you return home immediately.  Shang-Po is not as safe as I’d like for it to be, and as crowded as it is, it is that much harder to protect you all.  I ask that the priestesses please return to the temple, that the soldiers begin escorting and guiding the crowds out of the city gates and that those listening outside the city walls please begin moving home as well.  Hong may have Xing in the grip of fear right now, but he will not hold that power for much longer.  Together, your Emperor and Dragon will rid the country of this menace!”

The crowd agreed, and then the soldiers began their purge, beginning at the front of the palace.  The mass of people slowly started to move at last.  Cheering could still be heard, children continued to wave over their mother’s shoulders at the new Emperor and Dragon, but at last they were finding their ways to the gates.

Ling turned to his friend and now second in command of his people.  “Alright, now I could really use a drink.”

He grinned.  “Thank you for my gift, My Lord.  I will treasure her and treat her like a queen, always.”

Ling returned his smile.  “I know.  She’s happiest beside you anyway.  And I like seeing her happy.”  He walked slowly toward Lan Fan.  “If anyone needs me, Lady Fan and I will be in father’s private visitor’s chamber,” he said, taking her automail hand.  He hugged his mother before departing completely, telling her to go and get some rest and they would talk in the morning.  She nodded and obeyed her Imperial son, and Ling and Lan Fan went to Wu-san’s ‘Concubine Closet’ as the servants called it.

When they entered his father’s room, he was reminded of why he wanted to use this room as their bedchambers until it was safe to return to his ‘play house’ in the gardens.  There was a supply of fresh cannabis and a dozen different pipes from which to enjoy it, including a large hookah.  He and Lan Fan shared some in an elaborately carved wooden pipe in the shape of a cherry blossom branch in full bloom.  Once the magic smoke went to work, he began to relax.  Being in a place neither one of them were used to, they didn’t relax enough to make love, though they spent plenty of time kissing and simply holding each other close.  Lan Fan drifted off to sleep long before Ling did, his mind racing with the day’s events despite the fog of the cannabis he’d smoked.  He dressed in a sleeping robe and went to his father’s rooms to see about Huilang and Wu-san.

The Amestrians were still there, even long after nightfall.  Ling dismissed them and ordered one of the other guards to find fresh replacements for all the soldiers standing watch over the injured.  Satisfied with the guard change, he knelt between the High Priestess and his father.  Huilang’s eyes fluttered open when he lit the incense and began to pray.  She tried to sit up and he stopped her.

“You need your rest, please don’t get up.”

She lay back and smiled weakly.  “Yes, My Lord.”

Ling took a deep breath.  “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, My Lord.  I’m just a little weak from the stress of the day.”  She rolled her head to look on Wu-san and Ling caught a glimmer in her eyes.  “Sleeping beside Emperor Wu…  How scandalous!”

“You know him very well, don’t you?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, My Lord.  I have been his spiritual advisor for many years.”

He bent down and whispered into her ear, “You’re more than that to him I believe, right?”  He could feel the heat of her blush before he saw it.  Her eyes said a thousand things in a single glance, and she hesitated before beckoning him down to whisper into his ear.

“When I am well, I will tell you everything, My Lord…”

He took her hand and squeezed gently.  “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“It is a heavy burden I carry, My Lord.  I don’t know if it will help or hurt to share it with someone.”  Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her face.  “I have to tell someone.  And you would best know what to do with the information.”

“I appreciate your trust in me, Huilang.  I will not let you down.”  He patted her shoulder and turned to his father.  “Has anyone fed him today?”

“I fed him earlier.  It was easy to do, given my state.  He will live another day, My Lord.”

They watched the old man breathe slowly, no sign of consciousness to be found on his lined face or in his sleeping position.  Huilang took a deep breath beside him and touched his arm.

“I do not think he will linger much longer.  His skin is becoming waxy and he wheezes now.  His body is shutting down slowly, despite our best efforts.”  She looked over at him.  “I warned him about sleeping with so many women.  I warned him about the consumption if he didn’t change his ways.  Use his life as a lesson, My Lord.  Do not follow in all of your father’s footsteps.”

Ling bent and kissed her forehead.  “Try to get some sleep.  I’ll get the physicians to examine him tomorrow.”  He saw the livid line across her collar.  “I’ll get the princess to see about your wound.  She’s quite good with medicinal alkahestry.”

“You are too kind, My Lord,” she said in a sleepy voice.  “I heard you gave her to your Dragon as a bride.  I could feel their _ki_ jump for joy, even from here.  You will be a good and kind Emperor, Yao-sama.”

“Shh,” he said as he covered her up.  “Now’s the time for rest.  We’ll talk soon.”

He left them with fresh guards and returned to Lan Fan’s side.  She was lying in a ball on her side, but when he crawled in behind her, she unfurled like a flower opening to the sun.  He pulled her into his arms and she woke briefly.

“I love you,” she mumbled before snuggling up to his chest.

“I love you too, Lan-chan,” he whispered as he kissed her temple and held her closer to him.  “With all my heart.”  He felt the palace tremble a bit on its foundations and he grinned at the ceiling.  “Looks like I’m not the only one feeling the love tonight.”  It didn’t take him long after that to finally find rest, sleeping peacefully in his Lady Fan’s arms.


	6. CHAPTER FIVE

When he awoke, Mei was wrapped around him and snoring quietly.  It was the first time in days they’d had any privacy, and the first time since arriving in Shang-Po that they’d spent any time alone behind closed doors.  Ling’s surprise of gifting Mei to him as a show of good faith was completely unexpected, but their shock was quickly replaced with desperation.  Ling had told everyone with his gesture that he wanted Mei with his Golden Dragon, that they should suffer no prejudice from a decision they did not make on their own.  Mei explained to him between passionate kisses that even though there had been no ceremony yet, that Ling had married them, for all intents and purposes.  It was for this reason they took it upon themselves to have their wedding night early.  
  
The Dragon’s rooms were larger than anything Al expected.  It was only two rooms, but he supposed if Granny’s house in Resembool were split in half, with the second floor right beside the first, that these rooms would be close to the same size.  The bed alone seemed as big as his bedroom that he shared with Edward.  It was like a little room unto itself, with heavy silk drapes that closed the mattress off from the rest of the space.  It was good that they could do so, because theirs was the second heaviest guarded room in the Peony Palace.  Al didn’t like the idea of stealthy guards watching him and Mei together, so the curtains helped him to relax and plunder her body.  
  
It had been incredible.  Even better than the last time.  Using the cues their combined energy gave them, they managed to keep one another from climaxing until they could do it together.  The last few times they’d been intimate, their trysts had left them exhausted and drained.  When they came together at the same time, they felt refreshed and relaxed, not sapped to the point where sleep was the only option.  Afterward, he helped take down her hair while they loosely planned out their wedding.  Sleep did eventually come, but it was a restful sleep.  And now that he was awake, he felt like a million Cenz.  Or maybe he should say a million _Paisa_ , now that he had publically declared he considered himself Xingese despite his appearance and nationality.  
  
Mei stirred next to him and he rolled to his side and pulled her into his arms.  “Good morning, princess,” he murmured into the crown of her wavy black hair.  
  
She kissed his jaw and curled into his chest.  She hummed, then said, “Morning, Dragon.”  
  
He bent down and kissed her lips, his hands wandering over her body.  He chuckled, “I need to figure out how to keep the rubbers in the bed with us.”  
  
“Where are they?” she panted as his fingers brought her small nipple to a peak.  
  
“Not far.  Be right back,” he said as he kissed her neck.  He sprang from the bed, completely nude, only to find a young servant girl standing in the room with a platter of cut fruit and fresh tea and cups.  
  
His hands flew to cover himself as they both stared at each other- eyes wide in surprise and faces flushed in embarrassment.  The girl shut her eyes and began to apologize profusely.  
  
“No, no!” Al stammered.  “I didn’t hear you come in!”  He grabbed the nearest robe and quickly put it on- only to find it was Mei’s and much too small.  It barely covered him, but it was enough to conceal his now wilted erection and ease his embarrassment.  “Please, I’m covered now, you may open your eyes.”  
  
One eye cracked open slowly, then she scurried to the nearest table and set everything down before bowing and all but running away.  She shut the doors so quietly that even watching her do it, he didn’t hear it.  He sighed with frustration.  His first day as a Xingese citizen was not off to the best of beginnings.  He whipped the robe off and grabbed a handful of tins and a small basket and went back to bed, Mei watching him and giggling.  
  
He sat the basket at the foot of the bed, a good five feet from the reach of his toes when lying down, and flopped onto his pillow.  
  
“I bet you get a new nickname soon,” Mei tittered as she put her arms around him.  
  
“And what would that be?”  
  
“The _Blushing_ Dragon!”

* * *

Ling was up early, unable to really rest in a strange room and worrying about the state of his nation.  He was aware that Hong was still out there and planning something. He knew he was out there and gathering supporters, arming them, and now apparently ordering them about as if he were the general of an army.  That thought had led to another one- what if _already had_ an army?  What if this was just the beginning?  Would Hong really come to Shang-Po and forcibly take the throne from him?  It was things like that that kept waking him up at night.  So after the sun rose, he dressed and went to check on his High Priestess and his father.

 

The room was as heavily guarded as it had been the night before.  Huilang was awake and sitting up in the smaller bed, drinking some tea and smiling up at him.  He knelt between the mattresses and lit two sticks of incense in prayer.

When he finished with his mantra, he took his father’s hand and felt how stiff it had become.  “Not much longer?” he asked quietly.

“No, Your Highness.  I believe he may have a month.  Probably less, but certainly no more.”  She looked on him with sad eyes.  “I don’t think he is suffering, though.  His endless sleep doesn’t seem disturbed in the least.  How I would love to hear his voice one last time, though.”

Ling didn’t know what to say.  She seemed to be in mourning, though they had not even lost him yet. He spoke to the guards behind him.  “I want them both moved to the Temple today.  I will accompany them to be sure father gets into the shrine of Ong-Xu safely.  Ready Princess Chang’s wheelhouse for the trip.”

The visible guards left the room, but they both knew a half dozen of unseen men were lurking in the shadows attending to their security.  “You did not have to do that, My Lord,” Huilang said softly.

“It’ll be easier for you to recover if you don’t concern yourself with making the short trip to and from the palace four times a day to care for Wu-san,” Ling commented as he took a plum from a nearby bowl.  “And I would rather he spend his last moments on earth by someone who loves him rather than a room full of guardians alone.”

She bowed her head and smiled into her lap.  “You are a good man, My Lord.”  Her voice barely above a whisper, she said, “He favored the wrong son for far too long.”

He sat with her until the guards returned.  “Can you stand, Priestess?”

“My Lord, I am fully capable of walking.  I am more than fine.”

He turned to the highest ranking man in the room.  “Get them safely down to the wheelhouse.  I will join you as soon as I’m properly dressed.”

He rose and went back to his temporary room, finding Lady Fan just stirring awake.  He crawled to her and kissed her tenderly.

“I’m moving my father and the High Priestess to the temple to recover.”

She rubbed at her eyes and yawned as she said, “Will they be safe there?”

“Completely safe.  I’m going to post the Amestrians at the triple locking shrine door.  I’m going to accompany them.”  He tugged on the armor and clothing he had on the day before at Alphonse’s Dragon Declaration.  “I’m going to help her get Wu-san’s body into the temple, so I’m having him transported in Mei’s wheelhouse.”

Her hands were gentle on him as she helped strap the breastplate onto his body.  “Your judgment is law.  If you feel he will be better off there, that’s where he should go.”  She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and he relaxed into her embrace, patting her forearms.

Quietly, he murmured, “She has something she wants to tell me.  I felt it would be better to talk there than here.  And I do think they’ll both be safer there.”

He kissed her lips quickly before strapping the armguards on and grabbing his staff and sword.  “Please tell Al I’d like to meet with him this afternoon to discuss our first move against Hong.  The four of us will have lunch in our garden home when I get back.”

She wished him luck with the move of his Imperial father and he hurried down to the stables.  Ling sat between the drivers, smiling and waving at the people who came out to see the giant red and gold carriage.  It didn’t take them long, about twenty minutes to get across the city.  The priestesses welcomed them with a sense of urgency, and helped to carefully get Wu-san outside and into the temple grounds.

When they came to the sanctuary, the priestesses laid the comatose former emperor onto a rolling cart and Ling pushed it inside as Huilang walked ahead of them blessing the sacred space before entering it.

The door was locked and bolted.  He heard the sound of the Amestrians outside the doors, stomping on the other side twice to let him know they were at the doorway.  At last, he finally relaxed.  They were safer in here than anywhere in Xing at the moment.

Huilang sat down on the edge of the low cart and cupped his father’s cheek.  “My Lord, you brought me here so we could talk freely, yes?”

He nodded.  “I think you have something important to tell me, and I wanted you to feel safe to do so.”

She smiled at him and then turned to look back at Wu-san, stroking his face gingerly.  “I’m assuming you know there is more to he and I than our respective stations.”

Ling figured that out the first time she saw her feed him so carefully and tenderly.  “Yes.  And you can read in your _ki_ how desperate you are to get it off your chest.”

He watched as she took Wu-san’s still hand and held it in both of hers.  “I was only a girl when I fell in love with him, My Lord.  My family worked in the Pan clan’s shrine house, tending to the garden and the shrine itself, serving the priests there in exchange for housing.  They agreed to train me in the priestess duties in hopes that I could be sent here to the Temple of Ong-Xu.  But Wu-san was handsome and funny, too much fun to be a stuffy prince, and I was too disinterested at the time to truly devote myself to a station I wasn’t completely sure I wanted.”  She smiled at the man beside her.  “It was his insistence that made me try harder.  And the more time we spent together…  Our love just kind of evolved.”

Ling gave his spiritual advisor a lopsided grin.  “I can completely and wholeheartedly understand where you are coming from.”

The torches flicked and roared in the small enclosed space, lighting the golden statue of Ong-Xu eerily.  Huilang continued, “When your imperial father first bedded me, I thought for sure he was making a mistake.  He could never keep me as a concubine because I was considered off limits due to my spiritual training.  I was expected to be chaste, virginal, pure- but I never felt guilty for myself.  I wanted this young man I’d fallen so desperately in love with to win the throne.  I didn’t want our encounter to jeopardize his chances.  And then he returned home with the Jade Lion.”

Ling remembered the story of the Jade Lion from his tutors.  His grandfather had cast a small statue of a lion out into the great desert.  It was about the size of a jackfruit, and a single rider has been paid to ride into the desert and fling it wherever he wished.  The rider never returned to Xing, and fifteen years after it had been tossed, Wu tugged it from the sands and claimed his throne.

“He always said he would take me with him, wherever he went.  If a marriage was arranged between him and another noble woman, he would sire a son by her and live with me in the woods.  But as fate had it, he became Emperor and I found myself being brought to Shang-Po as his personal priestess.  He had my training accelerated and I became the High Priestess when my mentor passed on, not long after arriving here.”  She gave him a sad smile.  “And that is when our current troubles began.”

Ling furrowed his brow, not understanding.  “What do you mean?”

She took a deep breath and gazed at his father’s face a long moment.  “My Lord…  Hong Chen is _our_ son.  _My_ child that I bore at the same time that ugly Hong woman’s _daughter_ died.”  She looked at Ling.  “Chen doesn’t even know he’s illegitimate.  He never had a true claim to the throne, but Wu and I thought if we could only foster him with a concubine that he would have a chance…  And because I am the High Priestess, I told the people his odd coloring was an omen.”  She shook her head as tears began to fall.  “It’s all my fault.”

Ling digested this new information as she wept.  Hong was _not_ a Hong after all.  He was an illegitimate _Pan_ borne of a sullied High Priestess.  He understood their plight too well.  If he continued with the traditional challenge, he would have to forsake Lan Fan in the same way, and if she had come up pregnant, certainly he might’ve thought to do such a thing as to swap a dead child for a living one, if it meant a child borne of love might get the throne.

“Is he your only child?” he asked, wondering how many more children his father had sired.

“Yes.”  She sniffled.  “My pregnancy was very difficult and I nearly died during delivery.  I asked for an alkahestrist to remove those parts of motherhood from me.  My abdomen is empty.”

Ling didn’t like the story she told.  His father should have renounced the concubines- as he was going to do- and perhaps this would not have happened.  He took a deep breath and folded his arms.

“I must be honest.  I will tell Lady Fan, my Dragon, and my sister of this.  But apart from that, no one will know.”

She shook her head. “Perhaps that is part of the problem, My Lord.  Wu and I have been together a long time, and we’ve hid it from everyone.  Maybe it’s time to confess our sin in hopes that it will help encourage people not to help him in his cause.”

Ling stood and paced the fine marble floor of the temple.  “No.  I think if you do this the people will see you stoned to death.  And if not the people, then certainly Hong himself.  It’s too dangerous to admit what you’ve done now.”

“My Lord, I don’t know what to do to atone for this.”  She put Wu’s hand back down on the bed.  “And Wu will join Ong-Xu soon.  I’ve felt lost ever since he slipped into his sleep.”

“Huilang,” Ling said quietly, his voice echoing off the tall tower walls.  “Please don’t do something stupid when he passes on.”  He stopped his pacing in order to face her.  “You are a very important part of my plans for Xing.  Knowing that you made an entire nation believe your son was a true heir, and destined to be Emperor only helps me.  You can convince the people that we have prayed over a united Xing.  You can convince them that I’m not crazy and to accept the peace that will prevail at last in our country.”

She frowned into her lap.  “And I get to watch you lead your first war against my only child.  Granted, he’s a monster…”

“I gave him mercy once, and he’s done nothing but spit in my face ever since.  I can’t afford to leave him alive to terrorize the countryside in his madness.”  He looked up at the statue of their highest god.  “I don’t want to spill any blood, truly I don’t.  Lan Fan has taught me over the years that every life, even the lives of those who don’t agree with me or dislike me, is important.  But if one person is making it impossible to live freely…  That’s the only way- right?”

Huilang rose to stand beside him.  “My Lord, I have prayed for many nights over my son.  I believe as you do, that there is no other option but to execute him and quell whatever army he has amassed.”  She bowed before the statue.  “And if you need me to be here when you return, I will be here.  Your vision for a united Xing should have been your father’s.  He and I could have begun the dynastic rule this nation needs.  Instead it will be his _true_ son.”

Ling thanked her.  “Hong is still _your_ true son.  And I will order my men to not draw his death out when it comes.  I can give mercy in death at least.”

The High Priestess chuckled as she stood upright again.  “I only held him for a few days, and the Hong woman was good to him.  I do not know what caused him to turn out this way, My Lord.  I never even saw him until Wu marched him in here with the threat to give the throne to one of his other sons.  He made advances on me and insulted Ong-Xu…  He is not my true son.  He is a villain, and My Lord will put him down the way a farmer might slay a fox in his henhouse.  And it will be right.”  She touched his arm.  “I do not hold you accountable for him.  You did not attribute to his nasty behavior, nor did I.  He was raised by a kind woman…  It is Ong-Xu’s will that he will be killed.”

Ling bid her goodbye, promising to send up his sister to see about her wound and to send food and the tools she needed to feed his father and her lover.  He entered Mei’s wheelhouse and sat with his head in his hands, thinking on how much suffering she’d been through already in her life, and more yet to come.

“I must do all that I can so that no one else has to endure what she has.”

He looked out the window at the people in the streets smiling and waving.  If he could save one hundred of them from dealing with as much pain as she has, that would be great.  But if he could save _all of Xing_ from that kind of pain, he will have done his job.

“Yes.  This is what it means to be a ruler of people.  They are all my family, and I will see them all safe and sound.”

* * *

It was nice to return to the small house in the royal gardens.  Alphonse enjoyed the quietness of it in comparison to the hustle of the Peony Palace.  Lan Fan arranged the whole meal and he and Mei lounged around looking over the comic collection his Emperor had accumulated.  When Ling entered the house, he looked older already- and that worried Al.

“Is everything alright, My Lord?” he asked.

“In here, it’s just Ling.”  He sat down and Lan Fan poured him some tea.  He drank and then said, “This goes no further than this room, than the four of us.”

Al looked at the girls, they looked back at him, and they all answered at the same time.  “Of course.”

He spoke in Amestrian, something that felt funny in Al’s mind as he’d gotten so used to thinking and speaking in Xingese.  Mei conveyed with her thoughts that the guards didn’t understand Amestrian, and even if they overhead him they couldn’t understand him.

“Hong isn’t even a royal child.  He belongs to the high priestess and my father.”

Lan Fan looked ready to run to the Temple and kill the woman.  Ling seemed to sense that and he calmly told her that the High Priestess knew she’d made a mistake and that she didn’t know how to help.

“I’ve asked her to stay, to help me convince the people that ending the Emperor’s Challenge will be a good thing for Xing.  She agreed, and also says my father doesn’t have much time left.  And in the middle of a state funeral, my Dragon’s wedding, and the presentation of the concubines… I’m supposed to lead a war against Hong Chen.  I will need her assistance when it comes time to change how the Xingese think.”

Lan Fan balked at his suggestion to keep the priestess.  “She is a traitor!”

“She and my father were in love and thought they were doing the right thing.”  He reached for the sake and poured himself a cup.  “The Hong woman’s baby died, and they presented her with Chen in hopes no one would know any different.”  He looked at Lan Fan.  “Do you think she would let me kill her only child if she was not loyal to the throne?”

Al squeezed Mei’s hand.  “As a priestess, she has to know how sacred life is, and how unholy it is to just take it away from someone with no reason.  No doubt she’s manipulative, but as Ling says, it could be to our advantage.”  He looked at Ling.  “Yesterday, I swore to stand by your decisions.  I think she would be an asset, at least for now.  And she has said herself Hong needs to be stopped.”

Ling stared into his plate of food for a moment as Lan Fan stewed beside him.  “For him to be as far north as the latest reports say, I want to know how he knew when the coronation was.”

“There were people from all over the place.  If he’d ridden a day’s journey south, he could’ve heard it from anyone,” Mei said as she stuffed a sliver of squash into her mouth.

“Yes, but to send a scout that far, to and from…  It’s not very feasible or practical.  I think he’s got some kind of information railroad going between here and his location.  I don’t even want to think this, but what if someone in the palace is smuggling information to him?”

The room was silent, and Al picked up on Mei’s thoughts as she mentally checked off people that could possibly have a connection with Hong.  She spoke up, saying, “What do you think about Bear and Mouse?  They served him directly before, maybe it’s one of them?”

Ling shook his head.  “No, definitely not either of them.  He ordered Bear killed and murdered all the men in the village Mouse hails from.  They certainly have no love for him.”  He looked up at Al.  “I want you to come with me to talk to both of them.  They can probably tell us some things we don’t already know about who might support him still in the Palace.”

Al nodded in agreement.  “From what little I know about reading _ki_ , I’ve never got the feeling they didn’t implicitly trust you, Ling. They don’t _feel_ like they’re lying about their loyalty, but I know you can learn how to do that.”

The Emperor chuckled at that. “Indeed it can, Dragon!”  He took a deep breath.  “I feel a little better about how to begin now.  Let’s eat and then you and I will go speak to Bear and Mouse,” he said to Al.  They dug into the dishes before them, and after tender kisses were shared, the Emperor and the Golden Dragon made their way to the garrison in the Peony Palace, while Mei prepared to tend to Huilang’s injury.

Bear and Mouse were normally paired together, as they were Mei’s favorites and her most trusted of the soldiers in her father’s army.  After asking around, they found out they were in the barracks following their morning patrol, likely enjoying lunch before heading to the dojo to train.  Ling delighted in showing Al around the compound that was completely hidden from view from the rooms he stayed in.

The dojo was very large and very old.  The timbers and beams were well oiled and cared for, the paint bright and vivid, and the practice equipment looked up to date and in top training condition.  The doors were wide open to let the fresh spring air in, and he could see the wooden practice swords that lined the walls and wrapped straw kunai sitting in buckets in the corners.  At last the dormitory came into view and they stepped inside.

The soldiers stood at attention as they passed them.  To their right were rows of tables and cushions for reading, eating, or writing letters home.  They found several men just finishing their middle meal and another man drawing, and then saw Bear and Mouse at the end of the room, poking at a checkerboard as they ate.

They clambered to their feet and Ling smiled at them.  “I hope the food is good,” he said with a grin.

“Yes, My Lord,” they both answered.

“Good!”  He plopped down in the floor elegantly as Al knelt beside him.  “I have something very important to discuss with you.  I want you both to come to my private home in the gardens, around sunset.”

The two men looked at each other, both shocked and a little nervous.  Bear leaned toward the Emperor and asked quietly, “May I ask why?”

Ling looked around the room and replied, “I’d rather not say out loud.  Just know that you are not in trouble and your presence is crucial.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the both of them said quietly.

“There’ll be a feast, so come hungry!” he said as he got to his feet.  “And feel free to wear something other than your patrol gear.  This is an informal gathering- we were friends before my Imperial station and we’ll remain friends after.”  He turned to Al and asked if he had anything to add, and when he said he had nothing, they turned and left.

When the two men arrived later at the ‘Play House’, Ling handed them ink and paper, then wrote out his questions while they spoke of other things verbally.  They were questions about Hong’s behavior in the Palace before he left, his favorite as far as the guards and soldiers went, his favorites on the serving staff- anything he thought would be pertinent information.  And then Bear began to write furiously.

Al watched as Ling read over his shoulder, scribbling down more questions to ask when he was finished writing, all while openly chatting about the beef they were eating.  Then he said quietly, “Try to draw him.”

More paper came out.  He switched off with Mouse and he filled in the details.  When it was done, they had the story of Hong’s secret lover- a slow minded stable steward who was as big as the horses he cared for and strong as any village ox.  On the sheet of paper was written, “The stories say he almost died when he was a baby, until a man came and fused his spirit with the soul of a bull that had broken its leg.  When he and the bull combined, his strength and size improved immediately.  Apart from his mind, he’s been a dedicated and talented hostler ever since.”

Al’s eyes lit up.  He looked at Mei, thinking of Roa at the Devil’s Nest in Dublith.  Through their telepathic soul bond, he related to her that if the story was true, someone in Xing could make chimaeras like Jerso and Zampano with _alkahestry_.  And that if someone knew how to make them, perhaps they knew how to _unmake_ them.  While she nodded in agreement, she reminded him that at the moment Hong was their first priority, and they turned back to the written conversation Ling was having with the two soldiers.

Ling examined the drawing of the man.  He was large all over, his physique looking as if he’d been working in a barn his whole life, choppy black hair, full lips and a soft, round face.  He wrote, “Is he smart enough to get information to Hong?  Can he even read or write?”

Mouse responded in jerky handwriting, “He can write enough to order barn supplies.  His spelling is awful and his penmanship is even worse, but you can make out what he says.”

Bear added, “The gatemen say he wanders out of the gates sometimes, he says to just run and get some exercise.  They say he was running a lot just before the coronation.”

Ling frowned and wrote quickly, “I want you to bring him to me.  Finish your meals and then find him.  My Dragon and I will head to the throne room and we will interrogate him together.”  When they all nodded in agreement, he took the papers and handed them to Al.

Al clapped and transmuted the paper into fine kindling and sprinkled them into the fire, their edges lighting and curling into ash quickly.  Then he stirred the ashes and no one was any wiser about their mission.  And when they left again, Lan Fan had changed into her old assassin’s garb and faded into the shadows behind them.

The throne room was empty and a little musty, but otherwise clean.  Court had not been held in it since his father took ill.  Ling approached the throne itself slowly, his head bowed, hands clasped and eyes closed.  Before he even touched his bottom to the seat, he seemed to give thanks for the opportunity to lead his country.

When Mouse and Bear brought the man into the room, he was not bound, which was a good sign that he was willing to cooperate.  Al could still remember Roa’s strength and was concerned that maybe he should be restrained, at least at the wrists.  He started to order them to do so, but Ling began before he could get the words out.

“Tell me your name, hostler.”

“T-T-T-Tao, M-My Lord,” he stammered, face flushed and looking scared out of his mind.

Ling smiled.  “Relax, Tao.  Everything is alright.”  He rose and approached him.  “I was told that you were very important to my Hong brother.  Is that true?”  He watched Tao stiffen, and he relaxed his own posture and smiled.  “I imagine if you very useful to him that you can be very useful to me.”

He smiled at that.  “Y-yes!  I was very important to Chen-sama!  I took good care of his hunting horses!  He always said he liked the way I shoed them, because it made them quieter in the field, My L-Lord!”

Al felt bad that such a simple minded man was being baited this way.  But really what choice did they have?  He slowly stepped toward him.  “That’s a wonderful skill!  Could be quite helpful on the battlefield as well!” Al offered.

Ling frowned.  “I didn’t get a chance to meet my brother.  I didn’t get a chance to see for myself if the rumors were true.  I have it on good authority that you and Hong were very close, outside the barn…  What did the two of you do together?”

Tao seemed to get nervous again, and Al laughed to lighten the mood.  “It’s perfectly fine, Tao!  We just want to get to know him better!  Our Lord didn’t have him executed before when he didn’t know him, so knowing him better only improves his chances of escaping execution again.”

Tao seemed to drink that logic in a moment, and then it all came pouring out.  Long hunting trips in the mountains, games with the guards, target practice with orphan children they picked up on the way to the cottage, the orgies, the nights he and Tao spent alone.  “Chen-sama said that was supposed to be a secret.  But when My Lord asks me, I was told to always tell the truth, even if it _is_ a secret.”

Ling nodded sagely.  “That was very good advice.  ‘Honesty is the best policy’ is what they say in the Dragon’s homeland.”

“It is,” Al agreed.  He smiled at him.  “Tao, we’re looking for someone, and maybe you can help us.  Would you like to try?”

Tao beamed.  “The Emperor and the Golden Dragon want _my_ help?  Yes!  Yes, I want to help!”

Ling spoke slowly and clearly.  “Someone knows where Hong Chen is and knows how to get information to him.  Someone gave him details about the coronation that no one else knew faster than he could have scouted it out.  I need to find out where he is.”  He leveled his gaze at the man and Al held his breath.  “Can you tell me where to look?”

Tao laughed nervously.  “I know where Chen-sama is.  But…  But, he told me he would _kill me_ if I told you, My Lord!”

Ling drew his sword slowly as Bear and Mouse moved to restrain his arms.  The man’s eyes flashed with fear as Ling said calmly, “And _I_ will kill you if you do not.”

 

  
“Ling!  Don’t do this!” Al shouted, forgetting in his urgency about the formality of Ling’s new honorific.

Tao was panicking.  He began to cry, pleading desperately with Ling.  “But Chen-sama told me he loves me!  He said he didn’t want to kill someone he loves!”

Ling was having none of it.  He brought the tip of the Imperial Sword to just before Tao’s throat.  “Do you think a man who kills innocent children is really capable of love?  He’s _using_ you, Tao.  Just tell us where he is and we can capture him.  Then you can ask him yourself how much he loves you.”

He whimpered and begged, Ling continued to push him, and then suddenly he _roared_ and shook Bear and Mouse off of him like they weighed nothing at all.  Al clapped and touched the ground, raising a cage from the ground to trap him, but in his agitated state, he broke free with no problem.  He ran faster than a man his size should be able to, and Ling called out to Lan Fan who was already chasing him.

Al couldn’t follow them with his eyes, so he glared at Ling instead.  “That didn’t go as planned!”

“That went _exactly_ as planned.”  He sheathed his sword.  “He’ll lead us straight to him now.”

Al balled his fists, angry that he hadn’t been let in on Ling’s interrogation tactic.  “You couldn’t have told me?”

“Didn’t have time for that.  Don’t worry, either Lan Fan will subdue him or she’ll follow him to Hong’s camp.”  He jogged out to the vestibule and peered out the doorway, Al right behind him.  Bear and Mouse were shouting for back up and Lan Fan couldn’t be seen.

“What do we do now?” Al asked, feeling like he should go after Tao as well.

“We let Lan Fan do what she’s been trained to do.”  He smiled at his friend.  “Don’t worry.  She’ll be back.  Tao might be big and strong and fast, but he’s no match for Lady Fan.”

Al hoped the Emperor was right.

* * *

In the trees surrounding the walls of Shang-Po, the Fu clan remained on guard, watching and waiting for an ambush that might never come.  Nui and Niao were together in one tree, about fifty meters to the south was Bei, fifty meters to the north was Nishi.  The rest of the Fu squad was spread out even further, but Shang-Po was surrounded by their protection.

So when the guards began shouting in the city and Nui saw Lan Fan speeding across the rooftops in pursuit, he signaled the others and they joined the chase as a huge man burst through the city gates, tearing into the forest at an inhuman pace.

“Something’s wrong with his _ki_!” Niao shouted as she bounded toward him.  Fifty fighters raced behind their escapee, pulling every trick they knew to get him to stop.  The man they were chasing seemed to have a supernatural gift for avoiding bombs and dodging darts and kunai.  And he was running so fast…

Niao noticed that she was running with less and less of her comrades, until she was the last one.  She knew she had to at least try to trip him or slow him down or something.  There was a large meadow up ahead.  If she didn’t do something now, the man she was chasing would soon have nothing to stop him and he’d be gone for good.  She reached for a length of rope with a small grappling hook on the end, and threw it-

It caught in a thick, strong branch above and she jerked hard.  Leaping up into the tree, she jumped out and swung over and down.  She kicked him right in his chest and knocked him flat on his back, skidding to a halt a few feet away from where he fell.

She panted trying to catch her breath instead of immediately subduing him.  Fear consumed her as she watched him suddenly get to his feet and race toward her.

She couldn’t move.  Paralyzed with terror, she watched in slow motion as his fist swung through the air and landed right in the middle of her guts, knocking the wind from her body and flinging her backward into a tree trunk. Her head bounced off the bark and he swung again, another blow to the stomach, this time lower…

She could hear Nui screaming at her attacker, could hear a woman’s voice calling out to _her_ …  The man beating her clawed at her chest and she felt something warm rolling down her aching body.  All she could see were two onyx colored eyes, wild and untamed as an angry bull, until even that faded to black.  Her pain slowly dissipated, and it felt like she simply went to sleep for a long time.  There were no dreams, there was no pain, no fear…  But she still worried.

When she awoke, her husband was covered in blood, but not his own- there was no wounds or tears in his clothing that she would see.  Lan Fan held her as she woke, the rest of their clan surrounding them.  Nishi was crying and Bei looked on the verge of tears as well.

“Nui,” she said weakly.  “What happened?”

He wiped his hands on the backs of his legs, the only place not soaked with blood.  Then he knelt beside her and took her hand. “You passed out, qin-ai-de.  You’re very hurt.  Lady Fan sent Zhang to the nearest gate to get a wagon and a physician…  I tore the bastard apart.”  He gestured to his clothing.  “There’s not much left of him.”

Niao was alarmed when she saw tears begin to fall from his eyes.  “It’s not bad.  I am calm and that helps with the pain.”

Lan Fan spoke quietly.  “Gu-ma…  I am sorry- the second _ki_ …  Your baby has gone silent.”

She felt sick to her stomach.  Another child- dead.  Her third in as many years to pass on…  The howl that erupted from her mouth didn’t sound human to her ears and her body was suddenly shaking uncontrollably.  Nui seemed as distraught as she was and he held her gingerly as she sobbed.  Long minutes spun away from them, and when the sound of horses thundering down the path came to her ears, she wasn’t comforted in the least.  She wished they’d leave her to die here, begged for death between rounds of tears, but Nui pulled away from her and let the physician direct the soldiers to carefully put her into the cart.

Niao wailed to the sky when Nui turned and ran away from them, and the physician poured a concoction in her mouth that made her fuzzy headed and sleepy.  She watched him for as long as she could, and then sleep came again.  This time she dreamed.  She dreamed of a tiny baby, smaller than a newborn kitten, covered in bruises but smiling.  It said to her, “I am better in the hands of Ong-Xu than in your arms, Ma-ma.  And Ba-ba will return when Lady Fan’s first child is born.”

When Niao awoke again, Mei informed her that Nui had gone to hunt down Hong Chen.  She smiled.  “He’ll be back.  I know he will.”

“Ma-ma, he’s very dangerous.  There’s not much known about whether or not he has an army or if it’s just a group of murderers.”  Mei hesitated a bit, then said, “You should prepare yourself for the worst, just in case.”

But she ignored her.  The memory of her fifth child’s words rang in her ears- _“Ba-ba will return when Lady Fan’s first child is born.”_ Niao beamed as she closed her eyes, relief flooding her troubled spirit.  “We’ll see, Ah-Mei.  We’ll see.”


	7. CHAPTER SIX

Being commander over Eastern Command had its perks: very little paperwork, lots of luncheon meetings with various officials, ample travel opportunities and meeting more of his subordinates face to face, something that really made the position something worth upholding for Gen. Mustang.  Protecting the ones that he loved- all of them, from the highest brass to the enlisted men and every civilian in between- was his ultimate goal.  Taking time on his visits to meet with as many men and women as he could in uniform and to learn a little about all of them was extremely rewarding.  
  
Today was truly a work day, though.  After having spent two weeks touring the East State counties for inspections, he was back in his office with a stack of paperwork reminiscent of his Central days.  However, it was mostly wire reports and confirmation of travel plans that he’d already returned from.  More than half of it went into the trashcan.  
  
And then there was a wire report tagged in red ink by Maj. Braeda.  It was from Xing, and it bore both good news and bad news.  
  
Roy read the missive with great interest.  The kid he’d met years ago had officially taken over as Emperor of Xing, his father’s coma enacting some kind of emergency power.  But the coronation had been disrupted by a lone assassin, being held prisoner in the palace dungeon, and one of the guards severely injured when a second suspect was questioned.  The new Emperor had indefinitely postponed the presentation of the representative wives for their own safety, something never done in Xingese history.  A generous reward was being offered for information that could lead Emperor Ling and his Amestrian Dragon’s troops to the location of Prince Hong.  No word yet if his father had passed on, only that the new Emperor was already breaking with tradition and ruffling feathers in the process.  He sat the report to the side and continued going through it.  
  
Further down the stack was an elegant envelope, postmarked from Youswell.  “Ah, Mr. Han,” he said aloud to himself.  “Efficient as ever, my friend.”  He opened it carefully to find a letter from Alphonse Elric, the Emperor’s Dragon and second in command of the largest country on earth.  He called his adjutant into his office.   
  
“Col. Hawkeye, I think you may be interested in this.”  
  
She entered the room and stood beside his desk.  “What do you have, sir?”  
  
He grinned at her.  “A letter from Alphonse!  Thought you might be interested in what it had to say.”  
  
Riza smiled, happy that he’d made it safely to his new position.  She leaned down to get a look at the fancy stationary it had been written on and they read it together silently.  It said that the trip across the desert had been uncomfortable but nothing he couldn’t handle.  He was in love with his new home and was so glad to be reunited with Mei.  He thanked him for the prophylactics because the Xingese equivalent was not as comfortable or effective.  Then he went on to describe the coronation in detail, including the attack and his own confirmation ceremony.   
  
“The prisoner refuses to cooperate, and as of the date of this letter, he has gone nine days without food.  We give him water to encourage him to talk, but I think he would rather starve himself to death than face Hong’s wrath if he were to live.  The entire country is afraid of this one man and his bandits.  He’s extremely cruel and vicious, and the few details we were able to cajole out of his mole only backed that up.  He used children as archery targets, Roy.  There are monsters- even here- and not the kind we fought under Central.”  
  
Roy took a deep breath. “It seems we’ll never be rid of evil in this world, Colonel.  No matter where you go, there’s always that one bad apple spoiling the whole damn bunch.”  
  
Her hand landed on his shoulder.  “Don’t lose hope.  That’s what people like you and Alphonse are put on this earth to do- stop the bad guys.”  They shared a grin before Roy shuffled the pages and began reading the next one.  
  
“The mole we interrogated was a Xingese chimaera.  One of the palace guards told us the man had nearly died as a child and his soul had been fused with a bull, one that was about to put down from a broken leg.  He was very big and very strong, and he escaped from us.  The Emperor said he was planning on tracking him straight to Hong, but instead the Fu warriors chased him down and he nearly killed one of them.  He caused her to lose the baby she was carrying, and her husband tore him to bits with a dagger and his bare hands.  Lan Fan said she watched him rip his heart from his chest and stuff it in the man’s mouth.  The warrior that killed him is named Nui, and apparently he’s gone to avenge the loss of his baby.  I should mention that Nui is Lan Fan’s uncle, who married Mei’s mother- the baby would have been an in-law to me.  Family dynamics are little crazy in the Fu and Chang clans because they have merged.”  
  
Riza blinked.  “In-law?  Did Al marry Mei?”  
  
Roy scanned the words.  He read aloud to her, “ ‘When I was sworn in as Dragon, Ling _gifted_ Mei to me as a bride.  Mei says he married us with that act alone, but that a ceremony will make it official.  There hasn’t been a date set yet because of the security issues we’re having nationwide, but as soon as I know when it will be, I will send a caravan to come and get you and Riza, as well as my brother and Winry, Granny if she can make it- everyone!’  Well, I guess he’s a married man now.”  He winked at Riza.  “Can you imagine if I’d married you when I was seventeen and you were thirteen?”  
  
She shook her head.  “Now, now.  She’s almost fourteen, remember.  And how nice to want to invite everyone to Xing for the wedding.”  She patted her gun at her hip.  “And I’m certainly not afraid of monsters.”  
  
Roy nodded approvingly.  “Even with their troubles, that boy’s got the world by the balls.  He’s got power, love, wealth, and _time_ , because he’s starting out so early.  I know he’s perfect for that Dragon position.  I’m so proud of him.”  
  
“You sound like his father,” she said as she continued to read through the letter.  
  
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, admiring how her hair shone in the sunlight streaming through his window.  “To want to be a father figure to a bright young man with a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold?”  
  
She smiled.  “Well, eventually I’d hope you’d father children of your own, sir.”  
  
“I can’t do that until their mother quits her job.”  His hand reached up to touch her hip and he squeezed.  
  
“And she can’t quit until their father becomes Führer,” she replied coolly, removing his hand.  “What else does the letter say?”  
  
“Hmm, wiring the nation for telephone and telegraph, planning railroads and municipal systems…  Says they’re ‘bringing Xing out of the dark ages.’  Also says to tell our border patrol to be on the lookout for Hong should he decide to cross the desert and seek asylum.  Here’s a drawing of him.”  
  
The young man had shaggy auburn hair, green eyes, athletic build and a fairly recent scar across his right cheek.  A note at the bottom said it came from an injury after he was sent to the Hong village.  Al explained he thought his escape to Amestris would probably be very unlikely as far north as he was suspected of being, and that they were sending diplomatic messages to Drachma as well, in addition to their neighbors to the east,  Khumri, Bilai, Ganya and Shapatna.  
  
He went on to say he would write again if anything changed, and that once Ling settled in a little he would be receiving an appeal to open diplomatic relations between the countries.  “And you were right, my wedding is supposed to be one of those symbolic events to help bring our nations together.  Be on the lookout for a telegram from Pan Sai Tong.  It was much too important to be mentioned in this letter.”  
  
“As soon as that telegram arrives bring it in immediately, please.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” she said as he gathered the letter up and put it back into the envelope, then stuffed in into an overflowing drawer.  
  
“And I think you should accompany me to go shopping for new clothes for our trip to Xing,” he said with a smile as he got to his feet.  
  
The look she gave him made him want to both grin and cringe.  “Sir, please get through that stack of papers first, and then we’ll leave.”  
  
“Ah, yes.  Work first!”  He sat back down and sighed.  “Slave driver,” he muttered as he got back to work.  
  
“I heard that, sir.”  
  
He sighed again.  He looked forward to never hearing her mention paperwork ever again.  “Guess I better get to the Führer’s seat sooner rather than later.”

* * *

They were moving their camp today.  It was becoming common knowledge that they were hiding out in the north somewhere, and it wouldn’t be long before the Imperial squads would be out in force combing the northern forests and woods and he’d be on his way back to Shang-Po as a prisoner.

“Any sign of Jian?” his right hand man asked.

“Likely dead or dying in the dungeon.”  Hong grunted in frustration.  “I can’t worry about him,” he said as he helped his mother into a cart and covered her with blankets.  “Make sure the telegraph wire is spliced and reeled out.  I want three men working on that.”

Fei watched the men tearing the tents down and loading them up into sleds the horses could easily drag.  “My Lord, maybe we should leave Xing altogether.  Find a place just over the Khumri border and live near the ocean.”

“No.”  He slung supplies and some weapons into the cart to lie beside his mother.  “That throne is mine and I will gather an army to help me take it.”

“Gathering an army is going to be difficult when the people love him.”

“They don’t love him,” Hong sneered.  “They love the drama of it all.  As soon as they find out he’s not letting that whore of his go, they’ll be up in arms soon enough.”

Fei nodded.  “I heard through a travelling physician that he’d postponed the presentation of the concubines.”

“See?  It won’t be long.”  He patted his mother’s leg.  “Right, Ma-ma?”

The woman nodded and he stroked her cheek with a finger.

“Are you warm enough?”  Another nod, then she motioned for her chamber pot.  He handed it to her, as well as a poncho, then covered the supplies with a tarp.

“If you get cold, just bang on the slats and I’ll get you more blankets.” Chen turned from the woman and moved to tend to his horses.

He and Fei wandered up to the stream they’d camped by.  He tugged two water skins from his hip and bent down to fill them.

Chen said angrily, “First he marches home with some mysterious immortal gift that no one else sees, then my father slips into a coma, and all the sudden he’s taking over and disregarding tradition, first with that foreigner Dragon, and then with the disrespectful way he just postpones choosing his concubines.  I’m telling you, Fei…  That Yao bastard is just starting to show his true colors.  When the rest of the people see that, they’ll be begging me to take over.”  And he looked forward to that day, because he was going to send a lot of people to the executioner and the ground would be soaked in the blood of traitors to the throne of Xing.

“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t come to his senses any time soon then, eh?” Fei said, chuckling quietly.

“Don’t worry, if he’s dumb enough to keep fucking his bodyguard, he’s not smart enough to realize just because he has absolute power doesn’t mean he should wield it recklessly.  I have every faith that within the year, Xing will be mine once again.”  He corked the skins and stood up.  “It’s time to leave.  I’ll lead the way, send the next group behind me after an hour.  Once we’re all out, cover our tracks from here to the road.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

The men stopped their tasks to stand and salute him as he left, and he jerked the reins on the cart and drove out of the clearing, carefully rolling down the path until he reached the road.  Once on the road, he drew a heavy poncho around his shoulders and put a hat on, hiding his appearance.  This far north, hardly anyone was on the road to begin with, but it was becoming too dangerous not to disguise himself.

He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and he smiled over his shoulder at his mother.  “Need another blanket?” he asked, ready to pluck one out of the stack next to him.  She shook her head and made gestures for her writing box.  He nodded and stopped the cart long enough to get it from near his feet, then turned and handed it to her.

“Something on your mind, Ma-ma?  Maybe a suggestion on how to deal with that Yao brat?”

He waited for her note, listening as she scribbled behind him.  Then there was another tug, and he reached back for the note and began to read.

“I didn’t want the others to know.  Not sure I should even tell you.  I think I’m pregnant.”

He halted the horses and reread the words again.  Then he spun in his seat and gaped at her.  His mother…  The womb that had borne him would now bear _his_ son.  A second royal birth for her.  He moved the cart off the road and climbed into the back with her, kissing her deeply and gently cradling her stomach where his child lay.

“Ma-ma…  This is incredible!  You carry my first born inside of you!  Your first born’s first born!”  He kissed her maimed mouth passionately and reached under the poncho to sneak a hand into her tunic.  She wore no breast binding, as he demanded of her, and he brought a nipple to stand away from her.

He pulled away from her to breathe.  “I want you, right here and now!”

Her face paled, and she tried to speak.  She said ‘people would see’, so he picked her up and took her into the woods.  He spread out a blanket and ordered her to lie down.  It was chilly, and he didn’t want her to get sick, so he ripped the crotch of her pants open and freed his dick from his farmer’s pants.  He entered her slowly and tenderly, and she seemed shocked by this.

He whispered in her ear, “If it helps, pretend I’m someone else.  I want you to enjoy me as much as I enjoy you.”  His eyes never left hers, and something strange happened.

Her body relaxed, her insides gripped him, she whispered his _name_ …

Chen knew he’d been excessively rough with her as of late.  Instead of vandalizing her femininity this time, he took his time and pleasured his mother, gave her an orgasm he was proud of, and when he came- her mouth flew to cover his.

He lingered inside her, enjoying the feel of her _ki_ without the fear it usually carried.  And then there was the faintest trace of a second energy, and he kissed her again.  “You’ve made me extremely happy,” he praised as he rolled off of her.  “Second to claiming my throne, giving me an heir is the most important thing.  And you- who have already borne one prince- now will bear another.  If that’s not an omen, I don’t know what is.”

The sweet expression she gave him made him feel lighthearted again, like when he was a child suckling from his mother’s breast.  And when they filled with milk once more, he would indulge in them.  He burrowed his face between her legs to clean her up, then at last he hauled her to her feet.  He sat her up front with him and bundled her up in both blankets and they headed southeast again.

And she smiled the whole way.  


* * *

Rin still couldn’t believe it.  But it had come about nine days ago- a notice from the palace telling the concubines to stay home because it wasn’t safe- and while Kui and Mao had remained optimistic about it, Rin had a feeling that something was terribly wrong, and that it might be years before the concubines were presented to the handsome Emperor Ling, if ever.

Her mother had told her she was being silly, her father had rolled his eyes and muttered something about teenage girls.  But deep in her gut, something felt off about everything concerning Emperor Ling’s reign so far.

First off, there was the mysterious Lady Fan- deadlier than a cobra and lovelier than a spring morning.  Then there was the devastatingly handsome Golden Dragon from Amestris.  The fact that Emperor Wu still lived, yet was being replaced didn’t feel right either.  And the attack on the High Priestess had felt like the icing on the cake.  But now, as she watched her mother and siblings at a large stone in the riverbed, washing clothes out before they could pile up any further, her guts twisted with worry over the presentation of the concubines being halted.

She sighed, listless and restless and feeling like her entire future was being put on hold indefinitely.  And she’d seen the way the boys in the village had been looking at her- at all of the chosen representatives. If Emperor Ling didn’t choose her, she’d be sent back to the village and expected to marry one of her own clansmen.  And with the presentation being halted, it only made their mouths water to sit around looking at the pretty courtesans, all prim and proper and no royal home to go to.

She was working on a piece of embroidery, the only thing the headmasters allowed them to do as they waited for the word to come about when they could leave for Shang-Po.  The men were afraid they might hurt themselves in the fields or have an accident while helping to clean the house.  They were afraid of ruining the pristine bodies and faces they’d worked so hard to weed out.  So Rin sat and sewed… and stewed at the situation.

She looked up when she heard someone yelling outside, urgent and coming closer.  She put her sewing aside and scurried to the door.

Mao’s brother was racing across to the shrine where the headmen were praying for a swift resolution to the Emperor’s conundrum surrounding the concubines and Hong Chen.  The boy was breathless when he finally met them and he took a moment to suck wind into his starving lungs.

“Calm down, boy,” one of the monks said as he patted his shoulder.  “Someone fetch him some water!”

After a moment, a ladle was passed to him and he drank quickly, panted a little longer, and finally he spoke.  “I just heard it.  A traveler.  Said the word came…  through telegraph yesterday.”  He tried to take slow breaths but he just couldn’t wait to spit out the news.  “Emperor Wu passed away!”

The people who came to listen to what had happened reacted in shock, and one of the headmen asked if he was positive the story was true.

“Yes!  The traveler gave me a notice!  See?”  He reached into his tunic and tugged out a rumpled scroll and unrolled it.  Upon it was written that Emperor Wu, honored father of his Celestial Highness Emperor Ling, passed into the hands of Ong-Xu shortly before midnight on April 10th.  It stated that usually the country would be invited to come to Shang-Po and pay respects, but the threat of Hong made the situation too dangerous.  Emperor Ling was having a detailed painting commissioned to be taken on tour with his father’s ashes instead, going to every village throughout Xing.

“And that’s not all!” he cried.  “He’s halting the presentation of the concubines for _one whole year_!  Out of respect for his father passing away!”

Rin’s heart pounded.  She knew something wasn’t right.  She’d _warned_ them something would happen-

“It’s unheard of!”

“Why does he do this?”

“But he should begin producing heirs right away, shouldn’t he?”

She trembled and felt sick to her stomach.  She turned and walked back to where she’d been sewing a moment before and flopped to her cushion.  An entire year…  What if she grew ugly in that time?  What if her teeth became rotten and all fell out?  What if she gained or lost too much weight?

She felt tears streaming down her face and she wiped at them angrily.  No, she wouldn’t be defined by those things.  She was a smart and kind person.  If Emperor Ling did not like how nature treated her over the coming months, he could take it up with Shi-Nya, the goddess watching over young girls until they became mothers.

A year could fly by with the right kind of distractions, right?  She picked up her embroidery frame and focused on her handiwork.  Maybe by the date of the presentation, she could have a set of brand new presentation robes, that she would embroider herself.  Rin took a deep breath and threw herself into finishing the wall hanging she was making for her family so she could begin on the clothing.  


* * *

Just as Huilang had predicted, Wu-san had simply stopped breathing peacefully in his endless sleep.  She sent for Emperor Ling when his breath became slower than normal and then erratic.  They each held one of his hands as he breathed his last, and after he was gone they took a moment to grieve privately before alerting the priestesses and the monks to light the signal fires that had been prepared for his death.  Red smoke poured into the air and then his body was taken to be prepared for his funeral.

She attended to his body personally.  She touched his cold face and remembered when he did not have that ridiculously long mustache.  His lips were stiff and rough, nothing like the lips that had kissed her when they still lived in the Pan village.  His hands were a blue-gray color by the time she got to bathing him.  His fingers looked so long and thin now, like a monster from a children’s tale.  She remembered the heat and the strength in those fingers, pined for his touch- even now when she knew he would never spend a night locked in the tower with her again.  Before she rang for help in dressing him, she kissed every chakra center on his body.  Not a single place her lips touched was like the man she loved and bedded; he was nothing like the man who’d put a son in her belly.  It made her grieving a little easier to know that the man she’d fallen so hopelessly in love with had been gone for much longer.  It just took the shell longer than the soul to find eternal rest.

For three days, her beloved sat on display in front of the Peony Palace.  A golden deathbed cradled him in a reclined position and thousands of flowers framed and surrounded him.  Those who lived in Shang-Po were invited to pay their respects, but anyone outside the walls was denied entry unless they presented a royal coin, proving to be one of Wu-san’s many children.  He was a well liked man and his viewing was well attended, despite the shorter time allowed and the great reduction of visitors.  On the evening of the last day, Emperor Ling led the procession back to the Temple grounds, where the strategically placed logs and kindling lay for the pyre.

The gates to the temple were left open as Wu-san was removed from the golden bed, by his own son alone, and placed upon the shining white silk of the funeral shroud.  The monks and priestesses saw to his proper wrapping and binding with red silk ropes, and then Wu-san was carefully placed onto the pyre.

Huilang spoke in a shaky voice, saying prayers for a hot fire that would quickly release Emperor Wu’s spirit from the body he had been trapped in for so long.  She tucked a note she’d penned the night before into his wrappings, one that spoke of her deep love for him, that wished him well on the journey to heaven, and begging him to watch over Xing as his son led them into a new era.  She did not wipe her eyes when her tears fell.

The fire was lit and the flames licked up through the wood and timber, and once his imperial body had caught, the Emperor and soldiers left the Temple to allow the spiritual guides to coax Wu-san’s spirit from his broken and dead body.  Huilang tried to remember the sound of his voice as the flames burned brighter and roared louder.  A fragment of a conversation came to her mind, one they’d had when she was pregnant and in hiding.  The sound of him singing to their baby brought more tears, but it brought with them a smile.  She found rest easy that night.

Shang-Po was quiet for the next two days.

On the third day, the Temple bell tolled sixty three times- once for every year of life he’d been given.  After the last gong rang out through the city, Emperor Ling saddled a white horse and rode to the Temple and retrieved the ashes.  They sat on the royal throne until the painting of Wu-san lying in state was finished and ready for the nationwide tour, expected to take about three months.

The Emperor left his Dragon in charge while he spent an entire day in prayer.  He returned every day afterward for several hours until the painting was ready.  They talked about death, about life, about everything in between.  They talked about how to abolish the caste system and how to unite the clans.  They talked about love and misery, about sacrifice, about children…  And when it was all over, she got the feeling they both felt a lot better.  When the painting of Wu-san was finished, dry, and ready to present to Xing, he returned for good to the Peony Palace.

And then he addressed his people.   


* * *

This was it.  This was the moment he’d been waiting for his entire life.  One of his best friends stood just off to the right and a little behind him, the Golden Dragon that so many approved of in the week of the Emperor’s funeral.  He’d kept the troops fresh and fed, managed the crowds with little effort and kept the palace in working order while he retreated to the Temple to finish the illusion of having prayed over his decisions.

To his left stood the woman who’d loved his father, who also desired an end to the clan system and the Emperor’s Challenge.  The highest of the holy vassals, she was able to spin webs and cast spells over the people, simply because she was able to read archaic texts that no one else could (and if she couldn’t read it, she could make it up- if you were on her good side, she could definitely make the stars work in your favor).

In yet another break in tradition, he’d kept his father’s Dragon as an advisor (and told him that he would be executed at the first sign of being bought off).  If one chose a new Dragon, it was customary for that man to return to his home village or retire with one of his children.  Instead, he was given his father’s ‘visiting chamber’ as his personal apartments and office.  Mai Renchen was not particularly fond of his idea of uniting Xing, but when Ling stuffed an extra hundred thousand Paisa into his hand, he soon backed it completely.

Lan Fan and Mei were watching from the door to the throne room behind him.  Lan Fan promised him that no matter what happened during his speech, or what happened after, that she would continue to stand by him.  He’d squeezed her close to him and then walked out to address his subjects.

His heart was steady now, his breath calm.  He took a moment to gather his thoughts and stepped up to the microphone.

“It has been a hard week for the Xingese people,” he began.  Then he shook his head.  “No.  It’s been a hard year, with Hong’s attacks and the drought in the south.  And the cattle sickness raging right here in our own pastures…  And as Xing suffers from calamities all over, we’ve lost our beloved Emperor Wu.”  He paused, listening as the crowd hummed in sorrowful agreement.  “I know I have not been Emperor very long, but I still hold all of you in my heart, and I want the best of everything for every single person under my reign.  I want food for every belly.  I want medicine for every ailing person, and every farmer who needs it for the animals they care for.  I want warm, safe houses for you to call home.  I want safe roads for you to travel.  I want to make sure that you have every opportunity to be happy.”

He took a breath and swallowed.  “I’ve been in fasting prayers every day for nearly a week.  I’ve asked Ong-Xu what to do with Xing, with Hong, with our diplomatic situations…  I’ve prayed _for_ Xing and _about_ Xing.  I’ve been asking the God of Gods how to become the very best ruler I can be.  And I have an answer at last.”

The crowds applauded his breakthrough, but Ling wasn’t so sure they would like the answer once he revealed it to them.  “On the third day, the answer was revealed to me.  But it is a definite break with tradition, and to be honest- it frightened me a little.  I asked the guidance of my spiritual advisor, the same High Priestess who served my father, the same High Priestess who was attacked and nearly killed at my coronation- the same High Priestess whom Ong-Xu chose to name me Emperor of Xing.  We discussed my visions and once I was assured that they’d been sent to me by Ong-Xu, I discussed them with my Dragon and Mai-san.  They agree that even though it is not something Xing has done in the past, these radical changes will only better our nation and lead us to a brighter future.  To remain locked in old ways that do nothing for Xing will only hinder my true goal for everyone.  I simply want everyone to be happy and healthy.  That will not happen so long as some clans are starving while others have an overabundance of food.

“My Mei-mei’s clan, the Changs, merged with Fu clan and gave up their right to play the Emperor’s Challenge any longer, because there were only seven surviving families- of which many children perished in the fevers that ravaged the northwest.  It was known that they had lost many lives, but no aid was offered.  Is this what Xing has become?  A nation of people who turn their backs on those in desperate need of basic essentials to simply live?  If you were sick and starving and freezing, would you not want someone, _anyone_ , to simply give you a bite to eat, medicine to cure you, clothing to warm you- so you might return the favor for someone else?  Or what if you had more food than you knew you could eat?  Would you throw it out to rot in the garden, or share it with someone who had nothing?”  His voice was shaking.  The heartlessness and pride of his people had made them unfeeling toward other clans.  He was going to end that today.

“It is under spiritual and political counsel and many days of prayer, that I make the following proclamation, to be sent from the palace to every village in Xing.  From this day forward, Xing and all its territories and provinces shall be united under the Yao name.  I will care for every person in Xing as my own brother, under imperial dynastic rule beginning with my marriage to Lady Fan.  I will take no other wives, and only the children born of Fu Lan Fan and I will have a right to the throne.”

The people were aghast at the news, and the soldiers moved to the palace steps to guard him.  He did not retreat from his people, who hadn’t advanced upon him despite appearing floored and appalled.  He held his head high as he continued.  “All of Xing will undergo a vast inventory.  All of the wealth- agricultural, mineral, livestock- all of it will be tallied and redistributed.  Regardless of clan status before, everyone will be fed, everyone will be well and warm, and together we will usher in a new era of technology and education for every Xingese citizen, old or young.  No one in Xing will ever go without basic necessities ever again.

“I am also issuing a statement directly to Hong Chen himself.  Brother, I am giving you one last chance to turn yourself in.  I honestly do not wish to hurt you- I never have.  But I cannot allow you to continue hurting my people.  If I have not received word on your behalf by the first day of summer, consider yourself a fugitive of the Empire of Xing, and the orders will change from capture alive to kill on sight.  I do not wish for any more blood to be spilled.  If you turn yourself in, I will show mercy- you have my word.”

He gripped the golden podium and breathed a sigh of relief.  He’d said it.  It was _official_.  And he knew the citizens before him were likely confused and angry.

“I understand it’s a lot to take in all at once.  Notices will be sent out to every corner of Xing, and all the details will be made clear.  We are _all_ Xingese.  If we cannot support each other, we will fail as a nation.  I’m tired of watching Imperial siblings kill each other over dusty secrets and ridiculous treasures.  A united country will be better as a whole, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you.  May Ong-Xu’s blessings rain down on all of us.”

He turned from the crowd and walked back into the palace, Al, Mai and Huilang following closely behind He grabbed Lan Fan as he passed and kissed her.

“When do you want to get married?” he asked her.

She blushed.  “Any day is a good day.”

Huilang interrupted them.  “My Lord, we have never held a royal wedding before for an Emperor.  It would be best if you could give me and _my_ advisors some time to construct a ceremony worthy of your station.”

Ling nodded.  “I understand.  I would like to marry her as soon as possible.  I need an heir, you know.”

“Of course.  We will begin in the morning.  I will ask them to pray on it tonight.”  She excused herself with a low bow, and then Al and Mai spoke briefly with him.

His Dragon said, “I’ve told the men to keep their ears open for signs of dissidence.  I doubt there will be a riot but we’re prepared for that should it get to that point.”  Al asked if he needed any further assistance from him.  Ling dismissed both men and watched as Al gathered Mei’s hand in his and the three of them left down the hall toward the garrison.  He held Lady Fan tighter to him.

“I’m too wound up.  I need an outlet for all this energy.”

She gave him a wry smile.  “Should we retire to our chambers?”

He nodded at her as he stole another kiss.  “If something happens and we’re killed over this-”

Lady Fan shushed him.  “We have the best guards available to us.  You and I are trained warriors in our own right.  They may injure us, but they’ll never kill us.  And if somehow they do manage it, it still would have all been worth it.”

Ling grinned as he bent down, gathered her into his arms, and cradled her to his chest, bridal style.  He started walking toward the steps to take them to their rooms.  “I love you, Lan-chan.  We should get married one day!”

Their shared laugher echoed off the walls and he caught a guard grinning at them.  Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d imagined after all.


	8. CHAPTER SEVEN

Nui pulled the hides closer around him as he filled his water skins at the stream.  Though spring had come and gone and summer was on its way, it was still cold in the north, and more than once he’d slept in the snow.  Every time he killed for food, he saved the skins and cured them with his urine.  After a couple of weeks, he’d made not only a coat, but pants and some satchels- which came in handy since leaving with what he had on his person the moment his wife was taken to the palace to heal from her injuries.  And that small _ki_ that went forever silent…  Niao would be showing by now if she hadn’t lost the baby- no, if that monster hadn’t _forced it from her_.  
  
The assassin shimmied up a tree at the sound of hoof beats, wondering if he’d finally pick up the trail of Hong’s men.  
  
To his surprise, it was an ornate glass carriage, flanked by Imperial guards and carrying what looked like a painting and a vase.  The soldiers stopped to water the horses and fill their own water skins, and he listened carefully to the chatter below.  
  
The tallest one pulled a pipe pouch from inside his cloak and began to pack it with some bhang.  “Seemed like they handled the news pretty well.”  
  
“The poor villages always do,” the one with the pock marked face replied as he patted a horse’s neck.  “It’s the wealthier ones that are ready to set the palace on fire and hang the Emperor.”  
  
Nui blinked.  What the hell was going on in Shang-Po?  And what the hell were they dragging around to every village?  
  
A chubby soldier removed his cloak and washed his face in the stream, then patted it dry with a rag he pulled from inside his breastplate.  “But the Emperor’s right.  By combining all of our resources, everyone will be better cared for, and whatever’s left over can go back to where it came from.  That bullshit about the wealthy clans being poorer and the poor clans being wealthy is just stupid!”  
  
“We can say that because we’re all from poor clans.  We know firsthand what the new dynastic rule will mean for the poorer people in our nation.  But those wealthy assholes…  They’ll never understand what it’s like to only eat every other day in order to make the rice stretch until harvest.”  The tall man sighed, smoke rolling from his mouth.  “Emperor Ling is a good man.  I pray that Ong-Xu protects him as he turns Xing upside down.  It’ll really be better for us all in the long run.”  
  
They were silent a moment, and Nui surmised that apparently Ling was already beginning to implement the changes he’d briefly mentioned when they were journeying from Pin-Xia to Shang-Po almost three years ago.  He’d said something about redistributing the resources to make sure everyone was at least fed.  Apparently some were not as receiving of this change as others.  And what was that ‘dynastic’ rule about?  He carefully moved in the tree to get a better angle on the glass carriage.  Maybe he could find some clues in there.  
  
The painting became visible and he recognized Emperor Wu’s face… on a deathbed made of gold and more flowers than he’d seen in his entire lifetime.   His eyes flicked to the vase.  It was very large, made of brass and covered with a lid.  That was no vase- that was an _urn_.  Emperor Wu had died.  But why hadn’t the people gone to Shang-Po?  He shook his head.  That boy was up to something, Nui only hoped it was something good.  His soldiers supported him it seemed, even if it sounded like some of the wealthier clans did not.  
  
The chubby one looked around nervously.  “You think Hong and his men will be up here?  We’re pretty far north now…”  
  
“Nah,” replied the one tending to the horses.  “He’s out east now, remember?”  His comrades hummed in agreement.  “Somehow, he’s still able to get messages from near the Peony palace, though.  I’d give a kidney to find him.  I’d heard Ling was offering a Captains title to any soldier who found him, and nobility status to anyone else who finds him.  He even told the countries in the east that if they caught him and brought him to the palace, alive or dead, that they’d receive Hong’s weight in gold _and_ his weight in jewels.”  
  
Tall-man emptied his pipe and packed it away.  “The first day of summer is almost here.  We need to hurry up and finish Emperor Wu’s last hurrah through the countryside as quickly as we can.  There’s going to be a war starting soon and I don’t wanna be out here in the sticks unable to get back.”  He helped hitch the horses back to carriage and saddled up.  “We’ll go to the Ganto village next, and then there’ll be just a handful left here in the north and we can head west.  You still have the notices?”  
  
“Right here,” Chubby said as he raised the stack up from a sack.  One fluttered away and they ignored it.  They called out to the others, further down the stream than them, and they all left in the direction of the endless cold, leaving Nui unnoticed in his treetop.  
  
He scrambled down to the ground to catch the notice that had flew from the soldier’s grip.  The words he read left him speechless and his jaw hanging open.

 

Nui felt a lump of pride in his throat.  His niece was going to be the first Empress of Xing, and Fu blood would flow through the next Emperor.  Their poor warrior’s village, who just scraped by every year with food and medicine, would now never have to worry about starving ever again, which would benefit the Yaos, since the Fus were the ones protecting the royal offspring so they could live long enough to play the game.  
  
But now there was no game to play, and the two people he’d personally trained and fought with were at the helm of the nation, with his stepdaughter as support with her new husband.  
  
For the first time since he separated from Niao to avenge their baby, he smiled and choked up with emotion.  If Ling could manage to turn them on to the idea, Xing would be in very, very good hands.  
  
He folded the notice up and stuck it inside his shirt.  He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.  He looked up at the sky and said a prayer to Fukusho.  “So, he’s gone east now.  Putting the border to his back so he can run if he needs to…  Coward.”  He checked the angle of the shadows, gauging how much time he had left in the day, then began walking in the direction of the rising sun.  
  
He hadn’t traveled very far when he nearly tripped over a black cable sticking up out of the ground.  He carefully examined it without touching it, unsure as to what exactly it was or what it did.  It was too large to be a trip wire, too visible to be any other kind of booby trap, and it was covered in a rubber coating, as if it were protecting something inside.  He grabbed a long stick and pulled it up experimentally.  Nothing happened apart from pulling more of the cabling from underneath the dirt.  
  
Nui followed the black cased cord, pulling it up as he went until he came to a section of it that was wrapped in funny looking binding.  He unwound a portion of it until the inside was visible.  Under the black rubber protective sleeve, there was a myriad of copper wires, twisted around each other like the telegraph wires he’d seen  in Shang-Po before he left to return to Pin-Xia.  
  
It dawned on him what he was looking at.  This was the line Hong was using to spy on the palace.  Apparently when they moved camp, they took the telegraph with them.  The first thing he did was cut the cable in half.  Then he scanned the forest floor and found the tell-tale hump that ran all the way across the ground as far as his eye could track.  It wasn’t very well hidden, although the ground was very hard here in the north and not easy to dig deep in.  He imagined it would get harder to track it as he followed it, but for now it was like a black arrow pointing the way.  
  
As tired and cold as he was, it didn’t keep him from sprinting with excitement of his latest discoveries.

* * *

“Ma-ma, are you still hungry?” he asked her.

Hong Yi shook her head and patted her stomach.  No, she was plenty full.  Full of a great sense of direction and knowledge about all of her son’s plans.  She was waiting on one thing…

She would be traveling with Chen in the morning to see an alkahestrist called Hoi-sama.  He was reported to be able to regenerate missing limbs and heal deep wounds, as well as strengthen frail people by infusing their bodies with the _ki_ from an animal.  Chen had told her now that she carried his prince that she had been forgiven for telling him he wasn’t a legitimate heir to the Xingese throne.  To atone for cutting her tongue out, he was taking her to see Hoi-sama and see if her could grow her tongue back.  It would help her to be able to eat better- and let her sing to the baby.

And the sooner she got her tongue back, the sooner she could escape from him, because she wasn’t really pregnant.  She had scrounged up enough medicinal herbs to stop her moon blood, but that would only work for about four or five months and she would be expected to start showing.

But surprisingly, when she’d told him about the false pregnancy, his attitude toward her had completely changed.  Instead of a plaything meant to be used and tossed aside, he treated her humanely, tenderly, so much like the young man she’d raised.  And damn her to the deepest pit of hell- she loved it when he made love to her.  When his touch was soft and loving, he was incredible.  Those nights he would hold her naked body close to his and talk to the baby that wasn’t there, her heart would melt and she would wonder why in the world he had turned out the way he had.  He was fine until he was sent to the palace at the age of thirteen.  After that, he was never the same.

Regardless of how much she liked lying in his bed with him now, as soon as the chance presented itself after getting her tongue healed, she was bolting for the Peony Palace.  She was going to tell the Emperor where they were, what they planned on doing, beg for mercy that they didn’t execute her, too.

As the men followed them east, they began to pick up news of the former Emperor’s passing and the notices that Ling was sending to every corner of Xing.  She secretly hoped that Ling would change his mind about abolishing the Emperor’s Challenge.  What if his wife birthed a cruel boy like Chen?  There would be no other options to take over the nation.  And the only ones who would suffer would be the very people he was trying to protect.  But she would tell him that with her own words when she reached him.  For now she only worried about getting to Hoi-sama’s home and getting her words back.

“Ma-ma…” Chen said quietly behind her, his hands gently squeezing her shoulders as a true lover would.  “Please come to bed with me.  I need you.”

Sliding a smile onto her face, she turned and touched the front of his pants.  His hand threaded into her hair- clean and washed, well kept in the weeks he believed her to be carrying his child.  She couldn’t say it, so she gestured to him and then her mouth, indicating she would suck him off if that would make him happy.

In a strange show of affection, he shook his head.  He kissed her once on the mouth, then knelt before her and spread her knees.  Her eyes widened as he pressed his mouth to her body…

Her inarticulate grunts were all she could manage to spit out, but his hands coasted up her thighs and around her back as he wriggled his tongue in between her folds.  He brought her to a peak and then she shivered as she fell over the edge.  He carried her to their bed afterward.  She trembled in his arms as he laid her down and entered her smoothly.

He whispered that he loved her dearly, that he was truly sorry for having taken her voice away from her, and that he hoped the first words she said to him after her injury would be, “I forgive you.”  Tears fell from his eyes as he gently rocked within her, and she shushed him.  He burst within her, then quickly cleaned up, saying he needed some air.  He kissed her goodbye and left.

She blinked at his sudden absence, then saw a quickly scribbled note lying among their few supplies in the tent.  It read, “Tao killed a month ago.  Fu warrior tore him apart with a knife and sheer determination.  No one else wants to step up to man the line.”

Yi carefully put the note back exactly as it was and lay down again in their pallet.  Tao was the one he really loved.  While he enjoyed the female flesh, it was like a game to him.  Chen had always preferred the male flesh, she’d known that since he was about eight years old.

One night when he was drunk and feeling like telling her everything, he told her he had a lover in Shang-Po.  He’d told her in a slurred voice how he could just ride him for hours and never get bored of it.  ‘You’d love him, Ma-ma,’ he’d said.  ‘He goes really hard and deep,’ he’d said.

Chen must’ve been devastated Tao was gone.  While Yi really didn’t care about how he felt about anything since turning into this monster she didn’t recognize, she felt bad for the little boy trapped inside him, crying at the loss of his friend.  She guessed that was the mark of a true mother- the ability to still love her child, even if he really wasn’t truly her child and even when he’d done horrible and unspeakable things to both her and other people.

Or maybe she was crazy.  Either way, she wouldn’t be with him much longer.  One night they’d get a hold of some moonshine and get drunk, and she’d quietly steal a horse and run for her life.  She’d run all the way to the Peony Palace and climb the walls with her bare hands if she had to.  And then she’d put Chen down for good.  


* * *

Emperor Wu’s funerary urn came in the gleaming gold and glass carriage, carefully displayed next to a detailed painting of his deathbed.  Along with it came another notice.  Rin knew then her worst fears had come to fruition.

The soldiers explained that Lady Fan was to become Empress and sole wife of Emperor Ling, and that whether he took concubines or not, only the children she bore him would be considered legitimate heirs to the Empire of Xing.  When the headman asked how their village was supposed to compete for preferential treatment concerning goods and political privilege, he explained that every village would be tallied and it would all be redistributed so that everyone would have enough.  The villagers were upset and confused, but the soldiers were patient and answered whatever questions were asked of them.

Rin went back into the house and sulked.  It was over.  At last she could quit worrying about when it would happen.  She went to the bedroom she shared with her siblings and stripped out of the delicate clothing the headmen insisted the concubines wear to give false hope to the villagers.  She tugged on clothing that her brother would wear in the fields and slipped on bamboo sandals, then raced out of the house, hair tied up into a high flying tail.  She whooped as she ran toward the rice paddies, sloshing through the mud and water, then getting out and scrambling up a tree.

Her mother and father chased her down and stood on the ground yelling up at her.

“Ah-Rin!  Come down this instant!  You could hurt yourself or scratch your face!”

Rin cackled from the branch she sat on, grinning down at her parents.  “Why?  His Highness has made his choice- now I’ve made mine!”  She got to her feet and climbed higher.  Eventually, her head poked from the tree top, and she could see for miles.

“Ah-Rin, you’ll fall!” her Ma-ma cried from below.  “Please come down where it’s safer!”

Rin wanted to live here, above all the useless chatter below, away from the political drama that was consuming her country.  That was when she had an idea.  Quickly, she clambered down (much to her parents’ relief) and she ran back to the soldiers.

She moved through the crowd and walked right up to the tall man who seemed to be the leader of the unit.  “Excuse me?” she asked in a loud, clear voice.  “Take me with you when you leave, please.”

He and his comrades looked at each other.  “Why?”

“I was one of the three concubines to be presented to Emperor Ling as representatives of Xian-Fu.  I’m good with cooking, perhaps I can work in the Imperial kitchens?  Perhaps as a servant or even in the gardens-”

“Young lady, we have several more grueling weeks of travel ahead of us,’ he answered.  “If we took you, it would only be fair to take all of the concubines.  I’m afraid we just can’t do that.”  He sighed and patted her gently on the arm.  “Your Ma-ma and Ba-ba would be devastated if you ran away now.  You’re young yet, give it some serious thought before running away from those who love you so dearly.”

No, he was wrong.  They only loved what they thought she could bring them.  They thought she could bring them a bit of power, a bit of money.  She felt like an expensive doll, sitting on a shelf waiting for the right buyer.  While she appreciated the sincerity of the man’s answer, he simply didn’t know what it was like for her.  She frowned and turned away from them all, shrugging her mother’s hands from her shoulders and going back into the prison cell she called home.

Later that night, long after the people had decided maybe Emperor Ling was on to something with the tallies and the end of the Emperor’s Challenge, she crept from her bed and grabbed as much food as she could carry.  She snuck out of the front door and moved quickly down the road until she could go no further and needed sleep.  Rin only slept a few hours before waking and moving on again, and every step further from Xian-Fu she got, the less and less she peeked over her shoulder.

By the end of the week, she’d made it to Shang-Po- and on her own terms.  


* * *

Fuery was the one who brought him the telegram, and Roy tapped his chin in thought.

“Hong Chen is not a legitimate prince STOP  
Only six people in the entire country know this STOP  
His birth mother is our ally STOP  
The Hong woman who raised him is missing STOP  
We are unsure if it would benefit us to reveal the secret STOP  
Any thoughts would be helpful STOP  
Elric Alphonse Dragon of Xing STOP”

He hummed in thought, passing the paper around to his most trusted subordinates.  “I say it’s terroristic threatening.”

Braeda interjected, “You can only call him a terrorist if you reveal he’s not legitimate.  Otherwise the sham continues and he’s perceived as a jealous prince with a true claim.”

“Let’s try to see it from an ordinary Xingese citizen’s point of view,” Fuery offered.  “One prince you’ve seen for years, always in the limelight at the palace, rumors about his cruelty are as well known as nursery rhymes, and then out of nowhere comes a kid you only know because of his clan’s name, supposedly bearing the secret of immortality, yet never revealing it to the public.  In a matter of hours, the one you knew was going to become Heir in Waiting is tossed out on his ear in favor for this new kid.”  He shook his head.  “I’m surprised Emperor Ling doesn’t have more people siding _against_ him than just his brother.”

Havoc grunted in disagreement.  “That Hong guy is mean as a snake and unnecessarily cruel.  You saw how those people were leaving in droves.  No way they’re backing a horse that kicks.”  He put his hand down on Roy’s desk and leaned over.  “If you ask me, you find someone to _pose_ as his birth mother and tell the people he wasn’t a true heir to begin with.  _Then_ you can call him a terrorist _and then_ the people will never let him back in the palace walls.”

Roy sighed.  It wasn’t even his country, and yet because Alphonse was there, he felt obligated to at least offer assistance.  “I don’t think it will matter this late in the game.  He’s guilty of murdering innocent people, regardless whether his claim to the throne is true or not. I think they should say nothing and continue to search for him.”  He looked at all of them.  “The question now is should I offer troops to assist in finding him.”

Riza shifted her weight and crossed her arms.  “It could be a diplomatic gesture, and if they take us up on it, it would be the first time we’ve been allowed to see the country firsthand.  We take all the notes we can and write up official reports to bring back with us afterward.”

“And we’ll make a new ally- one nearly as large as Drachma, should we ever need the backup.”  Everyone nodded in agreement on that point.

“Fuery, tell him to say nothing for the time being and to continue with their plan concerning the first day of summer.  I’ll talk to Grumman about offering some troops to come help find him, and then I’ll write Al back properly.  Dismissed.”  


* * *

Lan Fan had been taken to Mei’s former chambers in preparation for the Imperial Wedding.  Her hair had been meticulously washed, trimmed, and oiled.  She’d been given sacramental cannabis and herbal teas, a relaxing rub down and acupuncture session with the physician in order to maximize her fertility on her wedding night.  She’d also been given a sedative to help her sleep, as she would be fasting until the wedding feast.

In the morning, she meditated alone in Mei’s private bath, soaking in fragrant waters before being led to a royal dressing room.  Before dressing her, a bathing maid meticulously cleaned and oiled her automail arm and removed the studded leather banding around her palm and wrist.  Then, probably half a dozen attendants began sliding the layers of her wedding robes into place.  Fine black cotton and gleaming red and gold silk covered her body from head to toe.  Her hair was brushed and braided, pulled partially back and set with an elaborate headdress of feathers, flowers, gold and precious jewels.  Every hair was in place and every fold of her royal robes perfectly secured.  A team of women brought makeup and painted her face, then adorned her in jewelry she never imagined wearing- all of it new and specially made for her, all commissioned by her soon to be husband as a wedding gift.  Her favorite piece was a solid carnelian bangle with his endearment for her carved into it.  She smiled at the piece and planned on never taking it off.

A mirror was brought before her and she gasped at her reflection.  She looked every bit like an Empress.  Her hair was pulled up into a traditional court style that she’d seen Ling’s mother wear on certain holidays, the adornments in it sparkling like gold fire with the dangling rubies and garnets glinting in the light.  Gold and enameled flowers held blazing red feathers in place and four long braids spilled over her shoulders, two in front and two behind he, all bound in red silk cords.

The clothing itself was a work of art.  An embroidered black corset wrapped around her waist to cover the simple red and black robes beneath.  Golden phoenixes flew in vertical lines from her breasts to her hips, cradling fertility symbols in their beaks. An equally exquisite apron hung down in from that.  It was two layers and featured floral embroidery as well as dangling ribbons and beadwork.  A wide red sash held it all to her waist, crafted with a large gold brooch of two phoenixes intertwined.  There was a red shoulder collar, embellished with red and gold silk ribbons and beading, as well as fine flowers surrounding the Fu clan seal- a rearing horse.  The edges of her sleeves reflected the pattern on her shoulders, and a fan mimicking her head dress was placed in her hand.  Despite seeing it on her body and in the mirror, she just couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked and knew Ling would be just as floored at her appearance as she was.  Her normal palace attire was more masculine so she could hide weapons on her body and fight if she needed to.  There was no way she could fight in this, nor did she want to.  Besides, she had the blade that was stored inside her automail if she needed it.  She only hoped Hong wouldn’t ruin this day and that if he did, the guards would be ready.

Her dressing maids led her to the palace steps to where an encrusted and decorated palanquin would carry her to the temple grounds.  The soldiers waited for her to be seated comfortably and with all of her finery inside, then they descended the stairs sideways to prevent her from toppling over.  The people of Shang-Po were the only guests, apart from the Fu and Yao villages who had been specifically invited and transported by the army.

The soldiers moved quickly down the roped off roads and made it to the Temple in less than twenty minutes.  When they stopped and lowered the palanquin, two priestesses helped her to exit.  Huilang stood in front of her, wearing a bright azure blue robe and very wide hammered gold belt.  She stepped forward and dipped her fingers in sacramental oil, then wrote Ong-Xu’s name at her throat with her fingers.

“Fu Lan Fan, you have been summoned to the Temple of Ong-Xu to answer the request of our Lord, Emperor Ling of the Yao clan, divine ruler of all our nation and guardian of its people.  Do you acknowledge that you have come here of your own free will?”

She smiled at the woman she had come to respect and admire.  “Yes, High Priestess.”

“And what is your answer, child?  Do you agree to marry Emperor Ling and become the first Empress of Xing?”

She took a deep breath and replied, “Yes, High Priestess.”

Huilang brought her hands together and bowed to her.  “Then it is my honor to perform the ceremony that will bind you to your husband and your husband to you.”  She turned to her assistants who stood behind her.  “We will bless and purify Lady Fan so that she may enter the sanctuary with Emperor Ling.”  They bowed in acknowledgement as Huilang stepped past them, then they each took one of Lan Fan’s hands and led her into the temple grounds.

The gates behind her remained open, allowing the city and its guests to watch as she was led to a prayer ring in front of the temple shrine made of chrysanthemum and peony petals, chaste berries, bits of ginger root and red clover.  Once inside it, she kneeled on a cushion, clasped her hands and bowed her head.  There were four priestesses who prayed aloud for her and four monks who walked around the circle bearing fragrant incense as Huilang held her hands out over the whole scene.

“We ask the God of Gods to look upon this girl and see that her heart is pure and true.  Ong-Xu, please grant her entry to the holy sanctuary, allow her to join her beloved in paying her matrimonial respects to you, and allow them to join their lives together as one!”

The monks stopped their circling and the priestesses raised their heads, chanting a prayer together with Huilang.  Lan Fan wondered how much longer it was going to take before she could be with Ling.  At last, the chanting stopped and Huilang addressed her.

“Lady Fan, you may stand.”

She got nimbly to her feet and watched as the priestesses opened the circle for her.  They ceremoniously swept the herbs and petals into two golden pans, then poured them into a blessed silken bag that Huilang held open.  She presented the bag to Lan Fan.

“When you pay your respects to Ong-Xu, you prove your faith to him, and symbolically prove your faith to our Lord and Emperor.  His Highness waits for you just outside the sanctuary.  Go to him and pay your respects to the God of Gods together.”

Lan Fan grasped the bag containing the elements of the prayer circle, ready to offer them at the sacramental fire at Ong-Xu’s feet as an offering of respect.  She was led to where a wide strip of red silk paved the way from the shrine yard to doors of the holiest structure in all of Xing- and Ling stood waiting for her there, dressed as elegantly as she was.

She walked carefully along the silk runner, taking in his appearance as she approached him, feeling his _ki_ vibrating anxiously against hers.  He was also dressed in reds and golds.  His shoulder collar was a double style, with gold flowers and scrollwork embroidered on black silk and trimmed in gold silk braids.  The portion near his throat was trimmed in a vivid scarlet, and a golden pair of phoenixes clasped his high neck tunic closed near his Adam’s apple.  His sash and apron were more masculine in appearance than hers, but still finely sewn and shining with golden threads.  His hair was woven through an elaborate headpiece, one that skewered through an elaborate top knot, and the sprig of hair that had sprouted at his chin over the past few weeks had been slicked into a point and moved in the light breeze.

 

  
  


“Lan Fan…” he said quietly once she was within hearing range.  “You look incredible.”

She felt her cheeks heat at his compliment.  “You look amazing as well, qing ai de.”

He smiled at her.  “Let’s pay our respects to Ong-Xu so we can continue the ceremony.”  He offered her his hand to lead her inside.  They bowed upon the threshold before entering the sanctuary, then they stepped inside.  


* * *

Mei watched the ceremony closely, following the bride and groom like a photographer to a celebrity.  There were five parts to the ceremony: the offerings to Ong-Xu in the sanctuary, the offerings to the Yao family god and the Fu family god at the temple shrine, the offerings and prayers given to deceased ancestors at the people’s shrine in the center of Shang-Po, the serving of tea and wine to each others’ parents at the reflecting pool in front of the Peony Palace, and the last being a dedication to each other until the end of time.

The High Priestess had bound their hands together in an endless red ribbon.  “You have proven your love to Ong-Xu, to Kyojimei and Gan-yi, to your passed on loved ones, to your parents, and everyone witnessing these offerings and exchanges.  At this final step, you must prove your love to one another.”

Mei listened as her brother and her Emperor pledged his life to Lan Fan.  “I will honor you in every word, thought, and action.  I would sacrifice my life for yours, my wealth and power for your happiness,  my very breath to see you taken care of.  I have loved you since I was twelve years old.  I will love you until the end of my days and even longer than that.”

Lan Fan echoed his words.  “I will honor you in every word, thought, and action.  I would sacrifice my life for yours, my breath if it meant life for you, and I will bear you as many children as I can.  They will carry the Yao family name and be stewards of Ong-Xu and of Xing.”  She grinned at him and continued, “I have loved you since I was fourteen years old.  I will love you until the end of my days and even longer than that.”

Huilang smiled at them as she unbound the red ribbon from their hands.  She tied it into a complicated bow in front of them and then tied the bow to Lan Fan’s obi with a blue cord the same color as her robes.  It hung down to lay against her where a child would someday lay, and the High Priestess said a prayer, apparently blessing her womb for the children that would soon follow.

Then she rose and declared, “His Celestial Highness, Emperor Ling of the Yao family, has taken Lan Fan of the Fu family as his most cherished wife.  May Ong-Xu celebrate your union with longevity and many children.”

Mei was sure she was the first one to start clapping.  The two of them looked beautiful together and she was happy that her brother and her friend and step-cousin were finally married.  She recalled the day on the train to Youswell when they were still in Amestris, chiding Ling for even asking Lan Fan to entertain the thought of marrying him.  Now here she was watching him follow through on the promises he’d been making to everyone.

“Will our wedding be the same?” Al asked.

“A little different, but yes.”  She turned to him.  “We should think about a date.”

“After Hong is captured.  I don’t want him to ambush my friends and family on the way here.  That would start an even bigger war than the one that’s already brewing.”

Mei nodded.  Through their bond, she told him how badly she wanted to bear him a child, how ready she was for the next phase of their lives.  She felt nothing but love emanating from him in response and he took her hand and squeezed it as they watched the Emperor and Empress sharing a kiss.

“We’ll catch him soon,” he murmured near her ear.  “And then we’ll get married.”

“And Mustang’s advice?”  They’d discussed waiting until she was fifteen to have children.  But Al had seen for himself that most pregnancies in Xing began at the onset of a girl’s menses, which sometimes was as early as eleven.  Girls in the poorer families became mothers between thirteen and fourteen, and none of them had died in childbirth as the man he admired warned.

He sent a vision to her through their bond, of him making love to her without the rubbers and very purposely trying to get her pregnant.

“Let’s see how far his flames reach…”

Mei prayed silently that they found Hong very, very soon.  


* * *

Fei was in a traveler’s rest in a south eastern village called Chunshuo, a merchant’s village with no particular clan or family in charge of it.  Hong had sent him on a scouting mission- looking for a larger camp site.  Since striking down the Emperor’s Challenge and implementing the village inventories, those in the wealthier clans had been packing up and leaving.  At least that was the plan, but once Fei managed to talk them into staying and backing an army to put Hong back in power, they started sending men to bolster their army.

So when he overheard two men talking as he at a meal of rice and river eel, he prepared himself to recruit some more men.

“And then he went and married his bodyguard!  Can you believe it!?” said a middle aged man with thick, calloused hands.

The other man huffed and took a drink of his liquor.  “Making a Fu woman the _Empress_ of Xing.  His poor father must be raging from heaven.”  He leaned in close.  “Mark my words, this country will be in flames before it’s all over.”

His friend nodded in agreement.  “I’m thinking of taking my family to Shapatna.  They need foresters and that’s what my father did when I was growing up.  The pay’s good and it keeps us out of the mess that’s coming.”

Fei quickly finished his meal, taking his sake with him as he rose and went to introduce himself to the men.

“I know exactly how you feel,” he said.  “May I join you?”

The older of the two smiled and scooted down the bench.  “Sure!  Have a seat!”

Fei shook his head.  “Can’t believe he’s going to take food and medicine from the families who have worked so hard to build up a little extra, just so he can give it to the lazy ones.”

They wholeheartedly agreed.  “The Challenge is all about survival of the fittest!  Ong-Xu only picks the cream of the crop for anything he does!  What Emperor Ling is doing is horseshit!”

“Man,” the older one griped, “I hate to say this, but I kinda miss Prince Hong.”

Fei nodded.  “Had a good head on his shoulders, a tactical mastermind, _traditional_ …”

“I dunno,” the other said, scratching his scruffy chin.  “He was mean as a snake.”

Fei pointed at him.  “He was young and dumb, and I dare either of you to tell me you’ve never done something you knew you shouldn’t have when you were young.”

“When he wiped out that shepherd’s family on the Upper Tract he wasn’t young.”

“That shepherd tried to kill him for fucking his daughter.”  Fei reached into his tunic for his pipe pouch.  “Trust me, he wouldn’t do anything if he wasn’t provoked.  His time back in the Hong village broke him of that.  Yi-san guided his heart back to goodness again.”

“I still think he’d be a better option than Emperor Ling,” the older one said, frowning.

Fei took a deep breath.  “What if I told you I knew a way for you to make that kind of change happen?”  They both looked at him with unsure faces.  “What if you could join an army to get Emperor Ling off the throne?  Or back them with supplies?”

“Shit, I’ll sign up for that,” the younger one said. “Beats working the fields and listening to my wife bitch about the kids all night long.”

“If you join us, you will be sworn to secrecy… and killed for giving up the secret.”

The older one stood up.  “I don’t want no part of that.  I’m goin’ to Shapatna where I don’t have to worry about being killed.  C’mon, Mu.  Let’s get outta here.”

Fei had him hooked.  He could see it in his eyes.

“Nah, you go ahead.  I think I’m gonna go.  I need a big change like this in my life, and if it could mean a better future for my kids, then I’m gonna go.”

His friend snorted, then turned and waved.  “Whatever.  I’ll see ya around.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Fei said.  “When you return a captain and a hero in the new army, he’ll wish he had stayed.

“What do I need to do?” he asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Just come with me when I leave.”

When they reached the camp, it was swollen and overburdened with people and weapons.  The first day of summer was only a few weeks away.  The Emperor was going to declare all of them fugitives of the Empire and rounded up and executed- but they were not going to go quietly, and maybe even take a few Shang-Po soldiers with them.

“Are you willing to lay down your life for the _true_ Emperor?” Fei asked as his new recruit looked at the people milling around.

“Yes,” he said with a smirk.  “Old Xing is the _right_ Xing, and if I can help that happen, I want to be a part of it.”

 

“Then let me introduce you to the _Emperor_.”


	9. CHAPTER EIGHT

Mei’s fourteenth birthday was particularly special.  It was the first birthday between them that they’d been able to celebrate together- except they weren’t going to be celebrating as ‘together’ as Al would have liked.  In fact, he’d planned for weeks to spend the entire day in bed with her, only leaving to use the chamber pot.  But Ling’s plan for beginning the tallies before the summer deadline called for every day to be busy and full.  On the morning of her birthday, he and Mai-san were in the audience chamber, trying to get everyone quieted down so they could explain what would happen to each village and their respective goods.  
  
A representative from each family was sent to Shang-Po.  They carried an inventory they’d taken of every item in their storehouses, barns and pastures, and soldiers were out verifying those counts while the headmen were in the capitol.  Alphonse and Mai were given the daunting task of explaining the tally and winning over those who were opposed to it.  
  
“In a few days, we will know what every village has to offer.  When those numbers are totaled, we will know what the entirety of the nation has, and we’ll be able to distribute each individual item to where it is most needed,” Mai-san said calmly.  
  
A short man, looking nearly seventy years old and very ornately dressed, stood and yelled out, “You just want to take from the rich!  From those who have worked hard!  And you want to give it to the lazy and those who feel entitled!”  
  
Al put his hand on the pommel of his sword, not that he’d ever use it, but the gesture was effective in shutting him up.  “First of all, this is not a laziness issue.  Some families do not have enough well members to work the fields because they lack medicine.  Some clans, like the Ki family, simply do not have _any men_ at all.  Secondly, do not think for a moment that this trade off does not benefit you.”  He went to a desk standing in the room.  His eyes scanned a piece of paper.  “What is your clan’s name, sir?”  
  
“Phuong, my Lord,” he answered.  
  
Al found him in the registry and his finger slid along the row.  “It says you have plenty of rice, wheat, barley, basic vegetables, medicinal herbs…  Your family has gold- that’s unusual from what I understand.”  He moved along until he lighted upon something.  “You’ve got no work horses.  You also only have two milk cows for a village of two hundred people.”  He walked away from the desk, holding the Phuong man’s gaze.  
  
“There’s a poor family in the flood plains, the Jing-Jing clan.  They’ve got just under one hundred head of dairy cattle that they can barely feed, but the meat is too tough to slaughter for beef to eat.  In exchange for some medicine and grains to eat, they could give you seven cows.  That should be enough to bolster your dairy diet needs for your village.  Whatever is left after the villages have been attended to, will remain with the original family.”  He smiled.  “There will still be clans that are better off than others.  There will still be clans that are poor.  The only thing that will change is that the space between the poorest clan and the wealthiest clan will not be as far apart as it has been.”  
  
“And we’d like for some of the poorer clans to come together and negotiate some sort of sharecropping agreement,” Mai added.  “These smaller families, like the Changs who have assimilated into the Fus, are a good example.  The Changs have bolstered the dangerous Fu assassins, and the Fus return to Binyi every spring to cultivate and work medicinal root plots to bolster the cabinets of the Changs, Fus, and Yaos.  Three families working together to help one another.  That’s the idea with the tallies- except it will be _fifty_ clans working together to help one another.”  
  
The Phuong man spoke again.  “Then why not let the poorer clans band together to fight their troubles and leave the well-off clans alone?”  
  
Al looked him in the eye as he spoke.  “Because we’re _all_ people of Xing, even me- who was born to an Amestrian mother and a Xerxian father in a foreign land.”  He grit his teeth.  “Have you ever seen what starvation does to someone?  Have you ever seen what chronic exhaustion does to a someone?  What these things do to a sick man?  Someone who must feed his family, so he constantly toils in his fields, to the point his hands are raw and bleeding, while other men a few miles away lounge on a chaise and drink wine…  It’s abhorrent and I refuse to watch that happen.  There’s no reason a man should have to work himself to death in order to simply survive, not when others have an overabundance of time and stock.”  
  
The Phuong man sat down as other voices began to chatter.  A timid old man from the Oongpao village asked when the families might receive the aid.  Al answered, “Once the numbers are all verified, we will begin determining who needs what, and how much.  We’ll make up delivery orders for each village and pull accordingly from the others.”  
  
Mai added, “Once the supply caravans have left with the order, whatever remains of the things we separate from your stock will still be yours.”  
  
“The wagons will come back to Shang-Po, we’ll shuffle everything into more carts to be delivered where they’re needed.  The whole process is expected to take about a month.  Our Emperor is spending the palace’s own money to ensure that every village and family has a secure and sturdy storage shed to properly keep their new inventory.”  Al’s posture relaxed.  “The situation is complex and confusing because it’s a new idea.  Xing hasn’t had any new ideas in a very long time.  This innovative way to keep everyone healthy and ensure a minimum quality of life is groundbreaking here, but is commonplace in my homeland.  The system really does work.”  
  
 “And what about when we start to run out of the things we were sent?  What then?” asked a younger man.  
  
“The tallies will be take place at regular scheduled times, four times a year.  It will allow us to monitor things in times of draught or heavy rains, both of which can ruin crops, or infestations such as rats in the storehouses or caterpillars in the vegetable gardens.  Natural disasters and pestilence can’t always be helped, but in those cases, Shang-Po will fill in gaps as needed.”  Al watched as surprise bloomed among the men in front of him.  “Yes, even the Peony Palace will pay its dues, on behalf of the four clans who call our city home.”  
  
Truly, they’d been over it all at least three times today.  If they didn’t have a grasp on the situation now, would they _ever_?  The Golden Dragon rubbed at his temples.  “I believe it’s time for a break before we discuss the next topic.  Lunch will be served in the gardens.  His Highness has arranged for a buffet where you may talk freely with the others assembled here.  Remember, not one of you outranks another.  This is the People’s Council.  We are all equal, and you are expected to treat each other as such.  Think of this as an opportunity to make new friends and allies.”  He looked at Mai.  “Let’s reconvene in two hours.”   
  
He turned and strode from the audience chamber, ready for some cannabis and something to eat.  Luckily, Mei knew what he wanted before he even arrived.  She lay in their bed with the drapes open, her hair loose and cascading over her naked body.  
  
“Something to smoke?” she asked, offering him a long, thin pipe with a small silver bowl.  
  
He winked at her as he pulled his armor off.  “Something to eat, first.”  
  
She giggled at him.  “Eating’s easier after your appetite is raised by the smoke.”  
  
Finally he was free of his clothing and he joined her in the bed, now used to the unseen presence of the royal guards.  As he crawled over top of her, he murmured, “I’m already hungry.”  
  
And he proved it to her.

* * *

Führer Grumman was a practical man with a tactical mind.  Yes, sending a unit of three hundred troops to Xing was a drop in the bucket compared to what they needed in a country that large.  Yes, having Xing as an ally would be an invaluable asset.  Yes, opening trade routes, safeguarding the passageway through the desert, and exchanging medicines and educational materials would be the result of assisting the Emperor in his hunt for the fugitive prince.  But he told a very upset general, “No.”

  
“What do you mean, ‘No’, sir?” Mustang demanded on the other end of the line.

“Roy, this is a blood feud.  Even if he isn’t a legitimate heir, this is about siblings fightin’ it out to ‘til the other cries uncle.  No amount of armed men in uniform is gonna keep those two boys from tearin’ each other and their country apart.”

“Then that’s precisely why we should go over there!”  Grumman heard a thud, likely from his friend pounding his desk.  “We can’t let them start a civil war simply because an arrogant false prince is whining about a throne that he has no right to!  People will get caught in the crossfire- innocent lives will be taken-”

“Lives have already been taken.  It’s too late to start with that argument.”  He sighed, pouring himself a drink and he listened to Mustang snap at something- hopefully nothing too precious- and incinerate it in a flash.  “I know you’re concerned about Al Elric.  But that boy got the best tactical training the Amestrian army has to offer.  He’s got a good heart and fire in his soul.  Let him do his job and lead their armies to a bloodless victory.”

“Everyone’s hands get bloody in war, even those who don’t pull the trigger.”

“Precisely why we stay out of it.  If they need help afterward, we rush in with banners waving.”  He took a burning gulp of his whiskey.  “This is not our war, Roy.  And I don’t want you sneaking in there to help when all you’ll do is cause problems.  These two brothers need to duke it out and get it out of their systems.  And no matter the victor, we help clean up.  Understood?”

There was a long silence and Eli knew he was stewing about it.  Eventually he answered him.  “Yes, sir.”

“I know you…  You’re probably already thinking of how to sneak away under cover of darkness to get to Xing.  I’m telling you right now Mustang- you cross that border on your own and I’ll have you stripped of everything.  I mean it, _do not interfere_.  Al’s smart and is fully capable of handling the situation.”  He paused.  “Though, being thrown out of the army on your ass would free up your time to marry my granddaughter.”

“I plan on marrying her anyway, sir.  The day after my inauguration as Führer.”

He laughed at that.  “Nice try!  Trying to bait me into an early retirement just so you can meddle in the middle of the Xingese civil war!”

Even Roy’s serious tone lightened after that comment.  “It was worth a shot, sir.”

“You two stubborn mules refuse to give an old man his greatest wish,” he mock sniffled.  “It’s pure torture!”  Then Roy laughed as he accused him of being a sadist for not revising the frat regs sooner.  A few more chuckles and it was back to the uncomfortable seriousness again.

“With all due respect, sir…  I disagree with this decision.”

“I know you do.  I admire your courage to admit that to me.  But my answer still stands.  We’ll continue to monitor the situation and if I think it warrants our immediate attention, you’ll be the first one I call to tell you I’ve changed my mind.”  He finished the rest of his drink.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a radio interview to do.”  


* * *

The line went dead and Roy slowly put the receiver back on the cradle, scowling at the opposite wall.  When Riza entered, he was lost in his thoughts- remembering the war in Ishval, the screaming and crying of innocent people as he burned them to death… and worrying that now Al would soon know what true hell was like.

“I assume the call didn’t go well, General?”  she asked as she gently touched his shoulder.

He shook his head.  “Couldn’t get him to authorize any help.  Told me he’d take my stars if I decided to go help without his permission.”  He closed his eyes and let her embrace him, his hand coming up to pat her forearm.  “It’s all a wait and see game right now.”

She quickly patted his back before pulling back to stand beside him professionally once more.  “I know you’re worried about him, but give Alphonse a chance.  The wire reports say that so far, the people like him and he’s doing a good job overseeing the tallies.  You have to let him do it on his own, no matter how badly you want to protect him.”

He sat up in his chair, put his elbows on his desk, and put his face in his hands.  “Is this what my aunt went through when I went off to war?  Is this the kind of conversation she had with someone?  He’s not even my son and I already feel like this…  I couldn’t imagine if he _was_ my son and having to watch from a distance, worrying if he was killed or missing in action.”

He felt her hand return to his shoulder and he took a deep breath.

“Roy…”

That got his attention.  He looked up at her.  “Riza?”

“You’re a good person, that’s why it hurts so bad to watch your loved ones be in danger.  You’d worry like this about _anyone_ you cared about.  But you’ll soon have a country of your own to run, so it’s best if you stay focused on Amestris right now.”

That was the thing about his adjutant.  Sometimes she knew his place better than he did.  Of course she was right.  And of course, she was able to soothe him and get him back on track.  It was why he chose her for the position long ago.

“You’re right.  I hate it sometimes, but you’re right.  I’ll do my best to forget about it for now.”

“That’s the spirit, sir,” she said with a genuine smile.  She looked at the clock.  “The paperwork’s all caught up in the front office, why don’t you go home early.  Maybe you could take a nice warm bath or enjoy a good book.”

“Though I’d rather be reveling in the sins of the flesh with a certain woman,” he grumbled as he stood up, “I have to admit, a nice, hot soak sounds pretty good.  With an ice cold drink.  That’s only way I’ll settle for a bath over ‘Elizabeth’.”

She gave him a single nod.  “Perhaps I can let Elizabeth know about your grievances and a compromise can be made.  I bet if you promised her a foot rub she’d be there with bells on.”

Roy laughed as he gathered his coat.  “That better be all she has on!”

He always liked when she chuckled in return.  “Play your cards right and she might not even wear that.”

Roy bid Riza good evening and whistled all the way home, thinking less and less about Grumman’s stern attitude toward Xing and more and more about Elizabeth.  It was stupid they still used their code names when referring to each other- out here near Eastern Command, the enforcement of the frat regs was incredibly lax.  Still, he was too close to the Führer’s seat to take any chances.

When he arrived at his house (no longer was he living in a town house or a condo- but an honest-to-goodness house on a plot of land and neighbors that were separated by grass and fencing), he drew a hot bath and poured whiskey over ice while he waited to see what Elizabeth would be wearing when she arrived.  


* * *

At last count, there were two hundred and thirty men camping inside the dense forest alongside Hong and his band of men.  While Hong knew a good portion of the country was upset with the radical changes his brother was implementing, he wasn’t expecting so many to commit treason and defect to join him.  If they were caught, it would be certain death for all of them.

But if his army continued to grow…

Fei and Xiu- his new captain- approached him.  “My Lord, we can no longer hide our numbers in the forest.  Our latest count is two hundred and eighty three, with over fifty of those being women.”

Hong nodded.  “We’re going to have to divide them up in squads.  Are any of them fighters or are they all farmers and tradesmen?”

“There’s some hunters among them, not many true warriors.  Got a couple of retired palace guards, though.”

He turned and started walking toward his tent.  “Separate all of the experienced fighters and bring them to me.  I need officers, we’ll start there.”

He entered his canvas home as his two commanders left to carry out his orders. His mother was sitting with a pile of fabric in her lap, sewing small pieces of it into an infant’s long gown.  He smiled at her.

“Ma-ma, we’re gathering more and more men every day.  When my Yao brother brings his squad of soldiers to capture me, I’ll have an army to either capture them or kill them.”  He cupped her cheek.  “Our return to the palace is imminent, and it will be _you_ who takes over as Empress.”

She turned her head from him with a smile.  “You ahh doo kind, Mah Dord.”

His mother was still struggling to talk clearly, but worked hard to practice talking again.  Most times she would sing while she did woman’s work in the tent, other time he would kiss her for hours as a way to exercise the muscles there.  And he felt lots of oral sex strengthened her tongue as well.  At any rate, it was a far cry from the grunts and groans she made before.  At least he could mostly understand her now.

“How is our son?”

She removed the sewing from her lap and bared her stomach and breasts to him.  Her breasts had grown slightly since he’d impregnated her.  She insisted he knead them before bed every night to encourage lots of milk.  It seemed it was working.  He put his hand on her belly, just beginning to curve out.

“Eh wehh be a whah before heh moves.  Heh’s too smah,’ she said with a gentle, loving smile.

He softly caressed her stomach.  “Then I’ll have to be sure to touch you lots so I don’t miss it.”  He bent and kissed her, then stood up and strapped two swords to his hip.  “In the meantime, I’ve got to see about my army.  The summer deadline is about a month away.  I’ve got to get these men ready to face the Imperial soldiers.”

“Good duck, mah Dord.”

He paused before exiting the tent and came back to kneel beside her.  He patted her arm and brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek.  “When this is over, marry me, Ma-ma.”

The look she gave him was expected.  “Ah-Chen…  You can’d mawwy yo mudder.  Id is forbidden!”

“I will be Emperor- and whoever does not recognize you as Empress will be slaughtered.”  He meant it. She was the only woman who loved him for everything he was, even the bad things he was.  He would sire a brat by every clan, but the children born of his mother and sired by him would be nobility and never have to fight their siblings for the Emperor’s throne.

His hand moved to slip inside her robe around her warm, bare back.  “It doesn’t matter.  We will be married anyway.  You belong by my side, and that’s final.”  He dipped his mouth to her nipple and suckled briefly before standing and leaving once more.  “No milk yet, I’ll be back later to massage them.”

As he left, he wondered what he would do if one of the imperial soldiers killed his mother and unborn child.  He decided he would unleash a wrath like no one had ever seen before, setting fire to the whole country until all of Xing burned.  And then he would jump into the flames last of all, to join her in eternity.

He gripped the handle of his sword and gritted his teeth.  No, that was not an option.  His Empress and his offspring would simply have to be protected, with the best of the men he had available.  He joined Fei and Xiu near the supply tents, met with the twenty eight experienced warriors, and chose two of the seven palace guards to watch Yi-san and protect her with their lives.  _Then_ he structured the remainder into an army.  


* * *

Jerso looked over at the prison cell with the assassin in it.  You could count his ribs through the shirt he had on.  His skin was white as a bleached sheet and he smelled like soured milk.

“You don’t have much time to change your mind,” Zampano said, his Xingese words heavily accented but clear and confident at last.  “Just tell us what he has planned and we can bring you food and medicine.”

The man shook on his pallet silently.  Zampano turned his back on him and Jerso finally had to look away as well.  “Poor bastard,” he said in Amestrian.  “I don’t think he’s going to make it, even if he did spit out what he knows.”

Zampano agreed.  “Hong’s already moved.  Whatever his plans are now, this guy doesn’t know what they are.  He wouldn’t even know where to find him if they let him go.”  He looked at his friend.  “If you ask me, it would be more humane to slip him some cyanide and end it quickly and painlessly.”

Jerso nodded.  Then he chuckled.  “How long are we going to stay here, anyway?  I thought we were going to try to get our bodies back?”

Zampano shrugged.  “What else are we going to do?  We don’t know the country that well, our Xingese isn’t good enough to just take off on our own, and the nation is on the verge of imploding.  I think for the moment, we’re safest here.”  He took his glasses off and wiped at them with a slip of cloth from inside the leather breastplate he wore.  “Besides, I heard from Mingxia that the Emperor sent for the man who created that stable hand that the Empress’ uncle killed.  He knows how to make chimaeras.  If there’s a way to separate them, he’ll know.”

Jerso smirked at his friend.  “Mingxia?  You got something goin’ on with her?”  He said nothing but his face pinked a bit and he leaned in closer.  “C’mon man, you gotta tell me!”

“I promised I wouldn’t!” he said defensively.  “Besides, we’re on the clock!”

Jerso snorted.  “Like _he’s_ going anywhere!”

“Listen…  I would _love_ to tell you- really.  But I can’t.”

“Say it in Amestrian, then!”

“She _speaks_ Amestrian!  As well as Aerugoan, Drachman, and about seven others.”  He looked at Jerso seriously.  “She said she’d castrate me and I believe her.  I found like fifteen knives when I was undressing her-”  His face turned beet red and Jerso roared with laughter.  “Shit.  I’m not saying anything else.”

Jerso heard footsteps coming toward them and Zampano turned toward the dungeon doorway, probably expecting to be ambushed right then by his lover.  Thankfully it was only Alphonse.

“Damn, you gave me a heart attack, Al!” Zampano said, heaving a sigh of relief.

The Golden Dragon snickered.  “Mingxia’s in the gardens, be thankful she didn’t hear your gossiping!”  He looked over his shoulder at the starving man in the iron cage.  “No change I take it?”

“No,” Jerso said, shaking his head.  “Maybe you’d like to try something.”

Al hummed in thought, and Jerso watched as he walked over to the cell and entered it. The man was too weak at this point to run or carry a weapon.  He was harmless as a newborn calf.

“Hong has moved his camp and never sent anyone to claim you from us.  Why do you serve a man who would abandon you so easily?”

He lay shivering on a burlap sheet, so thin and frail now, nothing like the wall of muscle that leaped nearly fifteen feet up in the air to nearly assassinate the High Priestess.  “He promised me something,” came a harsh whisper.

Jerso looked at Zampano.  The man hadn’t said a word since he arrived.

Al gently touched his shoulder and he seemed to snuggle up to his warmth.  “I can feel your _ki_ weakening.  There is still time to save yourself.  Don’t do this- nothing that he could give you is worth more than your own life.”

“He promised me he’d take my sister as one of his wives.  Our family would be well taken care of if she was chosen to be one of the concubines.”

Al laughed quietly.  “Emperor Ling has already taken care of your entire family.  What good is a promise if it’s already been kept by someone else?”

The man blinked and tried to roll over, confusion lighting his eyes.  “What do you mean?”

“He abolished the Emperor’s Challenge and is uniting Xing under a dynasty, and part of that dynastic reign is to redistribute all of Xing’s wealth in order to make sure families like yours don’t go hungry or linger in sickness!  He has already begun fulfilling those promises- Hong cannot give you something that has already been given!  And your sister is still a free woman!”

Realization bloomed in his sunken eyes, and Jerso rose, bringing an honest blanket to wrap him in and a bit of rice gruel to eat.

“Slowly, not too much at once, you’ll get sick,” Zampano warned.

In between careful bites, the man began to speak.  His name was Luo Jian and he was a bandit in a gang that ran the northern marshes, attacking merchants for their money.  Hong kept him for his size and speed as a runner between a village he pilfered food and supplies from and the northern camp.

“He says he’s going to raise an army and march on the palace,” he croaked.  “When I left he had under a hundred men, but a few would wander in everyday.  If he’s stepped up recruiting or captured any more bandits and outlaws, he could be up to two hundred by now.  And the plan was to smuggle arms from Drachma into his regime.  If he’s gone east, then he’s going to get them from Khumri- they deal in Drachman firearms and weaponry via  the Upper Passage all the time.”

Jerso felt an icicle of anxiety form in his stomach.  The Xingese soldiers and guards that he’d met while being a temporary captain were mostly hand to hand combat experts.  The only firearms he’d seen were a rusted up cannon brought from one of the eastern nations along the border and musket style rifles.  Drachman firearms were top of the line, finer than even standard issue Amestrian ones.  If those rag-tag warriors got into a crate of automatic machine gun rifles and rocket propelled grenade launchers, they’d be just about unstoppable, even if they were outnumbered.  It would take no time at all for them to tear through the countryside and blast everything in sight until they came for the capitol.  The river of blood would be miles wide…

Al rose.  “Get him some warmer clothes.  Feed him like a kitten, and I’ll send a mattress down for him.  We have to get to Hong before he gets those guns.”

Jerso closed his eyes and hoped Hong would be stopped in time.  


* * *

They were married at last, bound to one another by law and by love, and those in Shang-Po rejoiced at their union.  The feast had been beyond decadent, the entertainment afterward mesmerizing and incredible, and so far, they’d been in the garden house for three days straight, in a constant state of nudity.

Ling had lost count of how many times they’d given in to their passions.  At any rate, he was surprised every time he managed to come inside his wife.  He was sure his balls were completely drained, yet somehow he was still producing enough semen to fill her body.

The Empress’ softest flesh seemed to be pink and swollen, almost as if it was demanding to be fed his seed.  When he would kiss her there, his distinct scent filled his nostrils and he felt a surging pride in knowing that the pungent odor was _his_ and coming from deep inside her womb.  He figured feral beasts in the jungle must feel a similar sense of ownership over their females when their heat came.

Her breasts seemed to be larger than they’d been just two days ago.  It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with how much he’d been groping and squeezing them… and thrusting between them… and kissing and sucking them.  He marveled at her body as he entered her again, her voice nearly gone and raspy.  Her fingers tangled in his unbound hair and she arched her back from their bed.

“You like it, don’t you?” he panted as he pistoned roughly in and out of her.  “My lovely Lan-chan likes it rough, doesn’t she?”

She offered him a choked squeak in agreement, and then seized up around him.  He slowed as she gripped him, cooing for her to drag it out as long as she liked, but once he felt her begin to relax, he built back up to his previous pace.  Her larger breasts jostled in circles with his motions and she raked her nails down his arms.  He was about to come apart himself when she suddenly sat upright and cried out for him to stop.

“What’s wrong?” he panicked.  He feared he’d hurt her somehow…  They’d been at it like rabbits since the night of the wedding feast and he thought maybe he’d torn some part of her tender femininity.

She stared at him open mouthed and eyes wide.  He watched as her trembling hand reached for his and brought it to rest low on her belly.  “Do you feel that?”

To be honest, he didn’t feel anything, just the silky skin of his wife’s body.  And then there was a tiny twinge on the edge of his senses, almost like the feeling one got when being watched.  He focused on that fuzzy feeling, and then it hit him.

“Lan Fan!” he gasped, now wearing the same expression as her.

“Does it really happen that fast?” she asked, now looking down at her belly as if she’d never seen it before.  She’d stopped drinking the carrot seed tea the day she was in fasting before the wedding.  They both had forgotten about it until this very moment, but in any case, they neither expected her womb to quicken so soon.

“Well, we have been doing it a lot…  There’s certainly enough of my cum inside you to do it.”  He looked down at his hand on her stomach and he was overcome with joy.  He kissed her hard, then scrambled to lie down and kiss her where the first of their children was now growing.  “Lan-chan…  Thank you.  Thank you so much.”  


* * *

Nui wasn’t sure how far he’d travelled at this point, but when he began to see more and more men loosely gathered in the woods, he had a sneaking suspicion he’d found what he was looking for.  Nui had ditched most of his northern clothes for stolen pieces he’d picked up along the way.  He looked like an ordinary traveler, maybe even a drunkard or a vagrant tossed from his home village.  A man wearing homemade armor approached him on the road.  Nui decided to see if he could join their ranks.

He walked into their camp like he owned it, and not long after was surrounded by men with strange looking muskets.  The oldest one barked at him, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Nui looked around him, scowling.  “I’m trying to find whoever lets people into your gang.  I want in.”

“And what makes you think we want an old man like you?” he sneered.

“Leave him be!” came another voice from behind the ring of men surrounding him.  A gray headed man approached them and the circle broke as he neared them.  “Anyone who aligns themselves to us is our brother.”  He extended his hand and Nui grasped him by the forearm in a military handshake.  “So you’ve had enough of that Yao boy’s ignorance?”

Truthfully, Nui was proud of the Yao prince and happy with the changes he’d made so far.  But what he said was, “That damn brat.  If he’d left everything alone once he stole the throne from _Emperor_ Chen, I might’ve been able to stomach him. “

The man laughed loud and heartily.  “Then you’ve definitely come to the right place.  What’s your name?”

“Fu Nui.”

The man paused.  “Do you think this is a game, Fu?  You’re practically sworn to guard the Emperor with your life, and now you abandon him?”

Nui huffed.  “I watched that boy his whole life and didn’t think he had enough sense to wipe his own ass after a healthy shit.  Why would I think he could rule this country?”

“And what of the Empress?  She’s one of your own- how do we know you won’t defend her?”

Nui stood straight and looked him right in the eye, reigning in his _ki_ a smidge to hide his lying.  “If she was stupid enough to believe him, then she deserves what she gets.”

The gray man turned and grabbed him by the shirt.  “Do you swear on penalty of death that you will defend the honor and throne of Hong Chen, the _true_ Emperor of Xing?”

Nui was calm when he gave his answer.  “I swear it on my mother’s dead bones.”

The man let him go slowly, then jerked the sleeve of his shirt off.  “Then you won’t object to use carving that disgusting Fu tattoo off your arm.”

“No, I won’t.”

The gray headed man nodded slowly, grinning.  “Take him to the Emperor.  He’ll enjoy cutting it off himself.”

Hong did not look as Nui expected him to.  His auburn hair was choppy and hung in his eyes, his beard was thin and grew in rough patches, he was shorter than expected, and was a solid rippling muscle.  Of course he’d delighted in slipping a knife under his skin and slicing his tattoo off.  But afterward, he’d given him liquor and brought an alkahestrist to heal the wound enough to keep gangrene out.  Nui offered more proof of his loyalty by insisting he be allowed to train some of the men in hand to hand combat as he used to do in his old village.

“I’ll train them to be able to intercept the stealth assassins and ground soldiers by tracking their _ki_.  It’s what I specialized in.”

Hong nodded with a big smile.  “I’ll see you’re given some armor and all the supplies you need.  Serve me well and I’ll take care of you when Xing is mine.”

“Of course, My Lord,” Nui said as he bowed.  “Is there any particular place I should sleep for now?”

“Fei will show you to where the captains are bedded down.”  He rose and turned for his tent.  “Disregard my wife’s wailing, she’s with child and is desperate for my attentions as of late.”  He ducked into his canvas home as Fei presented him with a mismatched set of armor.

“It’s the best we can do for now.  It might be a little small in the chest, but we’ll make it work.”  Then came the sound of a woman’s moaning and Nui looked toward the tent.

“He found time for a wife and child?”

Fei grimaced slightly.  “Well… I think it was more of an accident than on purpose.  She’s not really his wife.”  He leaned in closer.  “His mother carries his child.  It’s his mother he beds.”

Nui’s eyes widened.  The boy had gone insane…  He named his mother his wife and got her _pregnant_?  Maybe he’d made a mistake- he was on the path to self-destruction.  Emperor Ling might not have to do much at all to overcome him.

“That’s incredibly… strange, sir.”

“You’re telling me…”

He led him to a kind of lean-to shelter with large leaf pallets and some burlap blankets.  It was more than Nui’d slept on in weeks and he was grateful for what little bedding there was.

“Food is scarce at the moment, but we do have a bit of rice if you’re hungry.  In the morning we’ll send out a squad to hunt.”  He spoke to the men who were already there.  “This is Fu Nui, fresh in this evening.  He’ll be in charge of guerilla forces- make him feel welcome.”

The others nodded toward him.  They were a friendly bunch, which puzzled him as to why they were even there in the first place.  Seemed like they were men without families who were so dependent on tradition and reminiscence that they couldn’t even register their clans and villages would be better off with the improvements being made to the country.  Electricity, telephone and telegraph, rail travel, combustible vehicles to free up the horse flesh for farm work…  It was as if the ideas were so foreign that their brains simply couldn’t handle all the innovations at once.

“So did you leave anyone behind?”

He took a deep breath.  “Lost my wife and child.  Got nothing left to lose.”  He had lost a wife and a child, just not at the same time.  And he was going to do everything he could to get back to Niao and Bei and Nishi.  But not before slaughtering every man in Hong’s rag-tag army- and with any luck taking the head of the man who led them all.

“Well, you’ve found a new family now,” one of them offered.  “And with greater purpose.  We’re glad to have you.”

“Thanks.”  He looked around him and said, “I’ve been walking all day, if you don’t mind, I’m going to sleep.”  They bid him goodnight and he lay down on his side.  He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.  He was greeted in the dreamscape by tiny infant, broken and battered and so tiny.

“Ba-ba, Emperor Ling’s forces will arrive on the first full moon of summer.  There will be three hundred men and most of them will die.  But if you train your men opposite as you were trained, most of yours will die as well.  It will be a bigger loss to your current master- and their curious fighting style will send Ma-ma a message of hope.”

He marveled at the child in his arms.  “Is she alright?  Your Ma-ma?”

The baby laughed adorably and Nui smiled at him.  “She smiles again.  She awaits your return, which should be next autumn.”

Nui furrowed his brow.  “That’s so long…”

“I can tell you no more.”

And he woke sweating in the middle of the night.  He wiped at his face with his sleeve and took a shuddering breath.

“Bad dream?” one of the men asked him, watching the night sky and smoking a pipe.

“Yeah.  Just a strange dream.”

The man nodded.  “We’re all plagued by them, ever since we joined up.”  He offered him the pipe.

Nui refused.  “No thanks.  I’m going back to sleep.”  He lay down and tried to rest again, but sleep did not find him again.  His mind was thinking ahead to an autumn over a year away, and wondering how he could change the course of that prophecy.


	10. CHAPTER NINE

When Rin left Xian-Fu, she had no idea what she would be walking into in Shang-Po.  She arrived at the western gate, and she marveled at the twenty foot tall wall that surrounded the city.  The top of the Temple of Ong-Xu was visible, even at the gate, and it stood tall and glittering in the afternoon sun.  She bowed as two guards approached her.  
  
“What’s your business here?” the more handsome one asked.  
  
“I wish to find work here in Shang-Po.”  She didn’t realize until just then that she was shaking with fear.  What if they didn’t let her in?  She’d have to go home and likely get the beating of her life before being sent out into the fields like the rest of her siblings.  She was just going to have to make certain they didn’t turn her away.  
  
“We’ve got more than our fair share of vagrants, girl.  Better turn around and go back home.”  
  
She fell to her knees sobbing.  “Please!  I can’t go back!  My parents will beat me to death if I go back now!”  She watched as the two of them looked at each other.  “I am begging you!  I’ll do _anything_ to stay in the city!  I’ll even sleep in the latrine if I have to!  Just _please_ don’t send me home!”  
  
“Anything, huh?”  
  
“Even…  _that_ \- if I must!”  She’d been groomed for it, might as well use those carnal skills to her advantage if she needed them.  
  
They laughed at that.  The shorter one clapped his partner on the shoulder.  “Please, I have two wives, I don’t need any mistresses!  And my friend here’s a eunuch!  So I’m afraid you’ll have to lower yourself to something more demeaning than that.”  
  
“What did you think you were going to do when you came here?” asked the handsome eunuch.  
  
She felt her cheeks heat.  “I-I assumed I could work in the palace kitchens-”  she stopped when they burst out laughing at her.  
  
“Young lady, you dream big!  But I have something that may work for you, if you’re truly interested in doing anything to stay here.”  
  
She bowed until her forehead touched the ground.  “Yes!  Whatever it is, I will do it!”  
  
The two soldiers led her through the residential districts, past the people’s shrine and the statue of Piya, Goddess of the common folk and peasants, and down to a loud and noisy home on the furthest edge of where the Yong clan lived.  They walked inside to find seven children squalling and shouting, and a frazzled mother nursing a baby and pregnant with another.  
  
She immediately looked alarmed at their presence.  “Oh my goodness!  I’m terribly sorry!  I’ll quiet them right away!”  
  
The shorter man held his hand up to her.  “No need.  I’ve brought you some help.”  He turned to Rin and smiled.  “If you can help Una get these children disciplined before the next baby comes, I’ll see what I can do about getting you to the kitchens.”  
  
Rin looked around the room.  It was dirty and unkempt, the children even more so, and some of them weren’t even toilet trained and pissing in the floor where they stood.  One of them yanked on her ponytail so hard that it threw her off balance and she fell.  The siblings cackled at her while the mother apologized over and over.  When she got to her feet she scowled at everyone in the room, turned, and walked out the door.  She could hear the men speculating as to whether or not she was leaving, then tried to shame the children into feeling bad for chasing her off, but they laughed at them.  
  
She walked to the nearest yimyim bush and pulled a strong stripling from the branches, then walked back into the cramped house.  She walked over to the overwhelmed mother.   
  
“Una-san, your children are in dire need of direction.  May I use this switch to guide them into place?”  
  
The woman looked at her atrocious children and smirked at them.  “You may use whatever method you see fit.”  
  
Rin lunged at the girl who’d pulled her hair so violently, jerking her by the arm until she thudded into her chest.  Then she swiftly bent her over her knee and swatted the backs of her legs until she began to cry real tears.  Rin stood her up and smoothed her clothing.  
  
“You will treat guests in your home with kindness and respect!” she yelled in the girl’s face.  “You dishonor your mother with your horrible behavior and you put the Emperor in a bad light for allowing your family to stay here!”  The others all looked at her with wide, fearful eyes.  
  
“S-s-sorry!  I’m so-so-rry!” the girl cried, wiping at her eyes with her dirty hands.  
  
Rin took a deep breath.  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”  She turned to Una.  “My name is Rin.  We will conquer this together, Una-san.”  
  
“Looks like we might get them all on track after all,” the short solider said as he gave Una a wide smile.  “Try to make this pregnancy your last.”  
  
She bowed her head as she continued to nurse.  “Yes, sir.”  
  
Rin wondered how long she would last in Shang-Po.  Children were not her specialty, but perhaps they’d find some common ground if they worked at it.  Then one of the younger ones smeared shit on her back.  
  
If she didn’t murder _all_ of them, that would still be considered a victory- right?  She jerked the switch from her side again and promptly drilled another lesson through a second thick skull.  It was going to be a very long and exhausting evening.

* * *

Mai Renchen had no patience for ignorant people, and what luck that he was stuck with a room full of them while the Golden Dragon saw about their prisoner in the dungeons.  _‘It’s like they’re a bunch of mongoloids,’_ he thought to himself as he looked at them comparing notes on the nearly four hour lecture explaining the tallies.

  
_‘No, mongoloids are_ smarter _.’_

He cleared his throat, ready to get it all over with and send them home.  He’d had a scribe make up notices outlining the most important parts of the discussions they’d been having that day and began to quiet them down in order to get the last topic covered and get them the hell out of the palace.

“If you’ll please take your seats, we’ll go over the last point!” he said loudly.  The headmen began sitting down orderly and the noise finally lulled.  He stood at the desk that had been provided in the audience chamber for him and Al to use as a reference station.  He quickly scanned over the notes he’d made and began to address the ‘People’s Council’ as it was being called in the hallways.

“When Emperor Ling abolished the challenge, he effectively abolished the clan caste system.  What that means is the farmers of Jing-Jing do not have to remain farmers all their lives.  If they want to journey to Pin-Xia to train as assassins with the Fu clan, they can.  If a Fu clansman desires the life of a shepherd, he can move his family to the plains of Hotoya.  And that also means that any person in Xing is free to marry any other person in Xing.”

The room seemed to be more shocked by this than the ‘complicated’ tally system.

“But won’t clans die out if that happens?”

“What will we do with the mixed children?”

“What village will they claim as their home?”

“Will this affect the tallies?”

Mai was about to address their questions one at a time when the Dragon burst in.

“The prisoner talked,” he panted.

Mai turned and walked with Al back out into the hallway and shut the door on the crowd of stupid men.  “What did he say?”

“Hong’s growing an army.  Planning on using Drachman weaponry,” he stopped to catch his breath.  “They’ll overpower us with those advanced firearms.”

Mai felt his chest tighten.  He’d been telling Emperor Wu that a more technological weapon was available and that not taking advantage of it would one day bite them in the ass.  Looked like that day was soon approaching.

“We have to tell His Highness.”

Al nodded emphatically.  “The man’s name is Luo Jian.  Says Hong was planning on intercepting the shipment from Drachma to Khumri, but now that they’ve gone east he’s likely to just get it in trade from the Khumrians.  It’s possible he could get soldiers and horses…  He’s not fooling around.”

Mai’s hand came to his head and he paced a bit in the hall beside his young friend.  “The Khumrians are masters of guerilla warfare- more so than our own foot soldiers or the Fu clan’s assassins.  If they send some of their Shadow Men to Hong-”

“We need to move now.  I’m going to interrupt our Lord’s honeymoon.” He stood up and caught his breath.  “Are you close to being finished with the council?”

“We’re on the last topic, now.”

“Send them home afterward and we’ll reconvene in my office before sunset.”  And Al was off like a shot again, this time running toward the gardens instead of the prison from which he came.

He did his best to steady his own nerves.  The young villain he’d watch grow from a promising boy into a monster was certainly serious about reclaiming what he believed was his throne.  He strode back into the audience chamber ready to get these idiots back home.

“Here are the answers to your questions!” he bellowed.  “See if you can understand what I’m about to tell you!  The clans will not die out.  When two people of different clans marry, they will take the name of the family in whose village they are living.  If a Mai and Chang are living with the Phuongs, when they marry they will take the Phuong name.  If a Nanta and Luo are living in the Luo village, they will be Luos.

“This will not affect the tallies because those quarterly counts will also do a census.  We’ll be able to track how people are moving across the country so we can better help everyone.  If they move as a married couple to another village, they retain their name, and any children they have retain that name.”  He glared at the man who asked about what to do with the kids born of those families.  “And you’re supposed to love and raise children, what else would you do with them?”

“This is too much!” a man said as he angrily got to his feet.  “I am resigning the Duong family and all of its possessions from the Empire of Xing!”

Mai gave him an incredulous look.  “What do you mean you resign your family from the empire?”

He stomped toward the door.  “I mean that we’re packing up and taking everything with us and _leaving Xing_!”

“You can’t just pick up and leave-”

“Yes we can!” he spat.  “We’ll pack it all up and set fire to what’s left!  We’ll go somewhere where we don’t have to share our hard earned supplies, to interbreed with other clans, to put up with an Emperor who has no clue how to run a nation!  We’re leaving!”

Another man stood up.  “The Yong clan as well!”  Two more headmen stood up.

Mai was furious.  “If you walk across Xing’s borders, do not expect to be allowed back in!  Besides, once Hong sees families fleeing he’s likely to open fire on you and rape your women!”

The Yong man answered coolly, “It’s a better fate to die at the hands of a warrior than to be humiliated at the hands of an idiot Emperor.”

Mai called for the guards, and was quickly joined by four assassins emerging from the shadows and six armed men.  “Arrest this man for treason!” The Yong man was quickly bound at the wrists and led away.

He entered the room once more, livid.  “Does anyone else want to forsake their nation just because they’re afraid of change?  Even if the changes will only bring about prosperity to _all_ of our people?”  When no one answered, he warned them, “You can choose to pack up and leave if you like.  But you _will_ be respectful of His Celestial Highness on your way out of the country.  Our former Emperor would not have tolerated such insolence!”

No one else moved from the floor and he stormed out, shouting over his shoulder for them to find their belongings and leave as soon as possible.  One of the guards retrieved him before he made it all the way back to the Dragon’s office, telling him that the Emperor had sent for him to join them at the garden house.  Mai was honored- he’d never been invited to the little home before.

It was a fine sized home for a small family with no servants.  Probably more than enough one needed to survive. The Emperor and Empress looked positively worn out and they reeked of sex and sweat.  He didn’t mention it, though.  He remembered his own wedding and honeymoon and recalled being in much the same situation.

The Emperor took a deep breath and squeezed his wife’s hand.  “I want you to gather three hundred men and comb the east until you find him.  Alphonse will alchemically strengthen the breastplates and helmets with the scrap metal at the forge to help make them as bulletproof as possible.  I know there’s not enough metal in there to strengthen them all, but it will be better than nothing until we can do some research on the how the Drachman weaponry works.”  He looked at the Dragon.  “Do you still have close ties to Gen. Mustang since arriving here?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

He nodded.  “Send him a telegram.  Ask him if he can help with arms and protective gear.  How did the council meetings go?”

He and Al-san looked at one another.  Mai said gently, “Three families claim they are leaving Xing for good.”

“Let them go,” the Emperor said without hesitation.  “I’d rather see them leave and be happy than stay and make trouble.”

“I have one headman in the dungeon for treason.”

He scratched at his furry chin.  “Let him go as well.  Tell him if he returns to the palace he will be executed on the spot.”

Mai blinked.  Emperor Ling was known for being very lenient, almost to a fault, with criminals and thieves.  This was the first time he’d ever ordered anyone killed on sight before.  Even his treacherous brother was ordered to be brought to him alive.

“Yes, My Lord.”

He looked up at them.  “Lady Fan is pregnant now.  I don’t have time to be playing school yard games with grown men who refuse to understand.”  He rose and walked to the door, looking out into the garden that was in full bloom and buzzing with bees, butterflies and bluebirds.  “I want Hong captured before winter.  I don’t care how it has to be done, I want him found and I want him brought here.  How long will it take to restructure the armor, Al?”

The Dragon thought for a moment.  “Probably no more than an afternoon.”

“Start on it right away, take as many men to help you as you need.  Mai, gather the troops and have them bring their armor to Al in the forge.  Whoever gets the reinforcements to their gear will be on the front line should Hong open fire on you.  Be prepared to leave in the morning.  Go.”

He and Al-san rose together, congratulating them on the news of their royal child and heading their prospective ways.  As Mai gathered up the men, he wondered if this was going to be a long or short campaign.  He guessed it would all depend upon what awaited them.  Hong might not have as many men as was first reported, or maybe they didn’t have the Drachman guns yet.  He remained hopeful, but prepared for the worst.

Al worked until late in the night, and then they rose with sun.  Their women were kissed goodbye in the stables and they set out from Shang-Po’s eastern gate, protected as well as they could manage and ready to end Hong’s grip of fear over the nation.

* * *

Yi woke to her son telling her they’d found a permanent home.  She pulled the covers around her nude body and sat up, rubbing at her bleary eyes.

“There’s a horse farm, maybe ten or twelve miles from here.  Fei slaughtered the family and we’ll be taking over the property today.”  He began to pull maps and notes off of a table and roll them up to stuff inside some bamboo tubes.  “There will be plenty of room for the men we have, plenty of horses for the commanders, food, supplies…  It’s a big step toward victory.”  He stopped packing long enough to come kiss her and feel her stomach.  “Our son will be born in a home and not a tent.  I can feel Ong-Xu’s will working through me!” Another deep kiss and some light fondling and he was off again, telling her to get dressed and help crate everything up.  “We’ll be leaving as soon as the tents are pulled down,” he commented.

Before he even exited the tent, her mind was already working.  She would dress in soldiers clothes today, give him the excuse that her robes were too small now because of the baby (of course, she’d put on some weight simply because he was feeding her properly instead of starving her practically to death while he battered her insides with his cock, like he used to do.  So her clothes technically _were_ a little snug now), and she’d sneak and grab  a helmet and breastplate from the supplies to put on.  Then she could make her getaway…

Once dressed, she mostly blended into the crowd of busy men.  Just moving from one place to another quickly was enough to give the impression she was doing something more that wandering around looking for armor that wasn’t too closely guarded.

At last, she came upon one of the shelters the commanding officers used and found just what she was looking for.  In a flash, she’d slipped into all of it, armguards as well, and turned to find a man looking down on her very curiously.

“Any reason you’re taking my stuff?” he asked calmly.

Her eyes darted to his arm.  It wasn’t bandaged, but it had been sealed by Hoi-sama.  This was the Fu man who’d come from Pin-Xia to join with the men gathering outside her canvas home.  “Ah-Ah-”

He knelt down.  “If you’re going to run, do it now while we’re all consumed with tasks.  Go south until you see a river.  Follow that river until it comes to a lake and you’ll be near the Lower Crossing.  There’s a city there, Chao-Shua. They have a wagon that goes to and from Shang-Po once a week along the Yomunaga Road.  You should be able to find your way from there.”  He handed her a dagger.  “Be safe.  Go now, right through that break in the tree line behind your tent, Hong-san.”

He leaned in close.  “I won’t tell anyone, I swear it.”  As he said this he sliced his palm open and held it out to her.  “I swear it on my own life, My Lady.”  She quickly shook his hand and darted around the other men for the trees.  


* * *

The packing process was chaotic and happened all at once.  Once the sleds and wagons were packed and ready, Chen couldn’t seem to locate his beloved Empress and mother.

“Ma-ma?!” he cried.  “Where are you?”  No one had seen her in hours.  The very guards sworn to guard her had been busy helping with the packing and hadn’t noticed when she slipped out of their sight.  Chen slit their throats himself for their error.

By nightfall, he was nearly in hysterics.  His mother, his Empress, the mother of his first born was somewhere in the dark and cold night and no one even knew what direction to look in.  He sat down heavily on a rock and tried to reach out with his senses, despite not being very masterful at tracing _ki_.  He could sense the creatures in the forest, the birds in the sky…  There were some single human signatures on the very edges of his range, but what he was looking for should have two distinct signatures occupying the same space.

Except…  Now that he thought about it, his mother was several weeks pregnant and he hadn’t felt the presence of a second _ki_ inside her yet.  But her blood had stopped coming, so she _must_ be carrying his baby…  Right?

He sent riders in eight directions, in a wheel formation.  They went out fifteen miles each, circled around a mile or so, then rode back- they found no trace of her.

“Well she didn’t just disappear into thin air!” he raged.  “I want her found, damn it!  It’s dangerous for her to be alone out there in her condition!”  Rain began to sprinkle down softly and Fei had the nerve to suggest  they simply ride on to the farm they’d seized to get out of the rain.

“Maybe she ran off, my Lord.”

He punched him in the jaw and the Fu man raced to his side, getting in between them.

“You’ll only bloody your hands, My Lord!  She will turn up eventually, I’m certain!  But it won’t help to beat your second in command!”

The man was right.  He was worried and hurting inside.  First Tao was killed, now Yi-san was missing…  He couldn’t stand it if he lost another person that meant anything to him.  He had to put his heart aside and think rationally.  It would be impossible to find her in the dark, let alone if it was also raining.  He now had over four hundred men and women waiting on his orders to move to the homestead they captured, that the man he assaulted had secured for them.  He had to get them all out of the rain or they’d get pneumonia.

“Let’s go,” he said in a sorrowful voice.  He looked around the camp one last time after they’d all left, looking for footprints that he might’ve missed, a lantern in his hand.  Fu urged him to put it out of his mind, that there were too many trampling the grounds and too much rain now to be of any help in finding tracks into or out of the forest ring.  Reluctantly, he turned his back on the camp and saddled his horse.

He was glad for the rain to hide his tears.  


* * *

Mei looked forlornly out her bedroom window across the city.  It had been weeks since Alphonse left with Mai and the regiment meant to capture her brother.  And while he was still connected to her through their bond, celebrating his birthday without him in the flesh had been difficult.  It happened that the first day of summer and his birthday fell on the same date that year, June 20th.  And while she could feel his excitement at getting close to nabbing them, she could also feel his frustration at following leads that went nowhere.

The day of the full moon, her connection with him seemed to buzz in a strange way.  Something was going to happen, she just could feel it.  But as she scanned the city and could find nothing to be worried about, she only worried more about him.  She decided to chalk it up to anxiousness on his absence from her and went to find her Ma-ma and sister-in-law.

Niao was about as excited as could be about Lan Fan’s pregnancy.  She was already making some clothing for the baby and helping to attend to her with snacks and teas to keep the morning sickness away.  Ling himself practically floated down the halls as he went about running the country, and Mei  could feel the _ki_ in her belly leaping happily.  It made her pine for her own pregnancies even more.

The three of them were about to enjoy some light lunch of fruits and chilled fish when panic seized her.  It was coming from Al, and she could almost hear what he was hearing.  She dropped her plate to the floor with a crash and she ran flat out to the balcony.  She could feel the explosions through her bond with her husband, but could see no smoke or hear anything from where she stood.

“What’s wrong?” Lan Fan asked.  “Is it Al?”

“They’re being attacked,” she answered.  “Nothing like our bombs- heavy artillery.”  She winced at what sounded in her head like a flying dart but much bigger, then another explosion.  “It’s like they’ve got rockets in them!”

Her Ma-ma held her tightly as Mei began to cry helplessly.  Lan Fan went back to the sitting room briefly, yelling for one of the unseen guardians in the shadows to find Ling and tell him to come right away.  By the time he arrived, Mei reported there were already numerous deaths on both sides.  Al was having trouble defending them with alchemy because he was on horseback, and she felt him pining for his father, the powerful human philosopher’s stone Hohenheim.

“They’re retreating!” she gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What’s happening now?” Ling asked.  “Can you tell me anything about the regiment?”

She could practically see through Al’s eyes, and she said quietly, “There are many dead.  Some of Hong’s men didn’t know how to properly use their weapons and were killed in backfire or friendly fire.  All those on horses have survived.  Most of the ranged men are returning.  We’ve lost almost all the infantry that went…”

Ling shouted in frustration and put his fist through a side table near the balcony doors.  Al’s thoughts came to her, and she told her brother, “He says they can try to regroup and make a second attempt, but he awaits your orders.”

“Bring them home!”  He shouted for someone to bring him a scribe and a rider.

While they waited, Mei spoke with Al through their bond.  “ _Are you alright?”_

_“Not even a scratch.  I wish I could say the same for my fallen comrades.”_

_“The Emperor says to come home right away.  He’s sending a telegram to the Führer-”_

_“Tell him to contact Mustang or Armstrong, those are the top two generals in the army and experts in all forms of combat.”_

She relayed the message and he made good on his Dragon’s suggestion.  He handed the message to the rider, with an order to run non-stop to Yangsho and deliver it to ‘Pan Sai Tong’ in the inn.  Then he commissioned the scribe to write up a notice to be copied and hung throughout the entire country.

All she saw of the notice read “WANTED: DEAD, ALIVE, OR IN PIECES” and “REWARD 100,000 PAISA”.  She hoped they helped encourage the people to take action and capture him.  Everyone had certainly had enough of her villainous half-brother.

A gate soldier came running with one of the palace guards.  “My Lord!  My Lord, this came at the eastern gate about ten minutes ago!”  He was waving a slip of paper.  “It was attached to an arrow and almost got me in the head!”

Ling reached for the paper and read it first to himself, then out loud.  “Yao Ling, we, the river clans to east- Yuan, Han, Luo, and Shua, are hereby now aligned with Hong Chen and refuse to turn him over.  We ask that you vacate the throne and take your wife, sister and Dragon with you.  If you refuse, we will fight back any advances you make upon Hong.”

Mei’s mother said it before anyone else could.  “We’re at war…  And it’s with our own people.”

The room was silent as the city below went about their lives blissfully ignorant of the events outside their walls.  No one spoke for a full five minutes.  Ling came to Lan Fan’s side and held her, his hand low on her belly as she sniffled.

At last, the Emperor broke the silence.  “Great ideas, even peaceful and beneficial ones come at a high price.  I do not want to fight my own people, but I refuse to let Hong have the throne.”  He took a deep breath.  “I will fight him until he is no longer a threat.  If that means war, then Xing will go to war.”

He ordered battle colors hung from the gates and in the city, and the drums of war played for an hour in the plaza in front of the palace.  It was two days before Al and Mai returned with what was left of their men and he said word had already spread throughout the countryside the day before.  There was no mistake- the Emperor had been more than patient and lenient with Hong and the time for mercy had come and gone.

The battle for Xing had begun.


	11. EPILOGUE




End file.
